


The Forgotten Memory

by NightRaven789



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Lockhart rapes Harry, Mentor Severus Snape, Other, Pain, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Severus Snape Has a Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:29:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 30
Words: 31,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24797713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightRaven789/pseuds/NightRaven789
Summary: During Harry Legilimency lessons a long forgotten memory comes into light. Not knowing how to deal with this new information Harry turns to an unlikely person, Severus Snape.
Comments: 86
Kudos: 370





	1. The Memory That Was meant to Stay Hidden.

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter One- The Memory That Was meant to Stay Hidden.

"Legilimens!" Severus yelled. He entered Harry's mind once more as the boy did his best to kick him out.

Images of Harry's friends sitting in the Gryfinndor common room and enjoying the roaring fire flashed past their eyes. Harry and Ron playing chess together. Harry at the Weasley's. Opening a Christmas present that Molly gave him. His friends sitting next to him in the hospital wing at the end of his fourth year.

Harry's home life came to light next, his uncle pushing him up against the wall, almost breaking his arm. His aunt telling him to cook dinner and to make sure he didn't burn anything. Harry being forced to wash his uncle's car.

A small child who sat in the corner of a dark room and cried.

Images of Lily came up. Severus found it painful to watch as she sang Harry a lullaby.

Suddenly he came upon a block in the boy's mind, as if someone had cast Obliviate on the child at some point. Fearing that it might have been the Dark Lord, he pushed though to see a horrific sight play out in front of him.

Severus stood and watched as Harry entered Professor Lockhart's office during his second year.

"Ah, Harry, just on time. Tea?" the man asked, holding up a kettle of freshly brewed tea.

"…sure," Harry muttered, setting his school bag down and sitting in the chair next to Lockharts desk, looking at all the pictures of the man.

"You will be helping me to sign autographs during your detention. Should be fun!" the man explained with a smile that could only be described as creepy.

"Fun," Harry muttered to himself as Lockhart brought him a cup of tea. "Thanks," he said softly before taking a small sip.

Harry spent the next few minutes signing autograph after autograph. Then he suddenly dropped his quill.

"I can't move!" Harry said, panicked.

"Don't worry my boy, it's just the potion I mixed into your tea. It's designed to paralyze you while still allowing your body to feel every little touch. Pretty soon you won't even be able to talk," Lockhart explained, starting to clear his desk.

"What…what are you going to do?" Harry stuttered as fear rose up inside of him. Severus felt every ounce of fear that the boy did.

"You've been such a tease to me, Harry," Lockhart said. "I wanted you the moment I saw you in that bookstore. I'm sure you know how it is. You're the Boy Who Lived, I'm sure everyone wants to get a piece of you."

"I don't…"

"I see the potion has taken full effect."

Severus could only watch as Lockhart laid Harry out on his desk, slowly undressing him, running his hands over his skin as he went. "Such soft skin" Lockhart said soothingly as tears rolled down the child's face. Harry was helpless to do anything.

Lockhart climbed onto his desk and hovered over Harry, kissing the boy's neck. Slowly moving one of his hands down to Harry's genitals, he gave them a small squeeze, pressing his thumb in, earning a small whimper from Harry.

"Don't worry, my precious Harry, you won't remember anything after. It will be like it never happened. Everytime will be the first time for you," Lockhart said, before gently flipping Harry over onto his stomach and bending the child's knees until Harry's bottom stuck up in the air.

"Deep breaths, my Harry," Lockhart told him, gently running his hand down his back until he got to Harry's bottom, slowly sliding his cheeks apart and slipping a finger inside. As Lockhart slowly moved his finger within Harry he bent down and kissed the boy's lower back in what he might have meant to be a comforting manner.

Severus did not want to watch this. He tried desperately to leave Harry's mind, but found himself trapped inside, forced to witness something that should have never happened. In that moment, Harry was no longer the son of James Potter, he was just an innocent child that needed someone's protection. But it was years too late for that.

Lockhart let out a small moan as he slipped another finger inside of Harry and started to slowly move them in and out, stretching the boy out and then adding a third finger.

Severus watched in horror as Lockhart moved his robes back and unzipped his fly. He pressed his hard member against Harry's entrance and slowly slid himself inside, letting out a loud moan when he felt Harry's warmth envelop him.

Severus couldn't take it. He turned away, but could not ignore the movement of the desk, the grunts from Lockhart and the whimpers from Harry. He tried to exit the memory once more only to be forced back in again. It was as if someone was forcing him to stay, tying him down to a chair and forcing him to witness as a young boy was stripped of his innocence.

The horror seemed to last forever, though in reality it was only a few minutes before the man came inside of Harry, cleaned the boy off and got him dressed.

"You were so wonderful Harry," the man said as he sat the child back down in the chair, doing up his shirt and tying the tie as he spoke. "Don't worry, the potion won't last much longer. Just long enough."

Lockhart got a wet cloth and cleaned the tears from the boy's face before pressing his lips against his, kissing him tenderly.

"Until next time my love."

Then Lockhart raised his wand and Obliviated the child.

Once the memory ended, Severus was able to leave Harry's mind. He watched as the boy fell to the ground, his eyes wide and tearful with fear as the memories came back to him.

"…Harry?" Severus spoke gently, bending down and reaching for him. He was so focused on the boy that he didn't even realize he had tears of his own falling down his face.

Harry only managed to shake his head as he turned and emptied his stomach on the dungeon floor.

"Don't touch me!" Harry snapped when he felt the Professor's hand on his shoulder. Rising quickly, he ran from the classroom.


	2. The Chamber of Secrets Again

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Two- The Chamber of Secrets Again

Albus Dumbledore looked older than he ever had before, as if all the years had caught up to him all at once. Severus had just finished explaining what had happened with Harry and he knew it would be hard on the Headmaster. He had seen it and he still had a hard time believing it.

"We must find the boy," Dumbledore said with deceptive calm, quickly writing a note and sending it off with Fawkes to inform Harry's head of house, Minerva Mcgonagall.

"One more thing," Severus cut in before Dumbledore had a chance to step out of his office. "I opened up the block in Harry's mind, so the memories will be like a waterfall, pouring back in all at once. It will be like it is happening to him all over again." Severus sighed. "We have to find the boy quickly or I'm afraid that Harry might do something drastic."

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes faded entirely . "Do you really think Harry would…?"

"…I do." Severus admitted.

For the next three hours the three professors looked everywhere they could think of. Minerva checked the Quidditch pitch and the Room of Requirement since she knew that Harry had been going into the room lately along with his friends.

Dumbledore checked the room in which Harry found the Mirror of Erised during his first year, then every other abandoned classroom.

Severus checked the Whomping Willow and when he couldn't find Harry he decided to go to the Hogwarts ghosts for help, but even they could not find the boy.

"I believe it's time we ask his friends," Minerva proposed. "Perhaps they will know where Harry might have gone to be alone."

Severus nodded. He didn't like that they had to bring more people into this but it seemed they didn't have a choice. They weren't going to find the boy on their own. But it was decided that they would keep the details to themselves. As Severus put it, "It's not our place to tell them, it's Harry's and Harry's alone."

"I don't understand why you can't tell us anything!" Hermione yelled. Beside her, Ron crossed his arms in solidarity. "What happened to Harry? He wouldn't just run off…" Dumbledore held up his hand, cutting her off.

"I know it's hard, but you must have patience and trust your teachers," Dumbledore told the two of them. "Now, is there a place Harry would have gone if he didn't want to be found?"

"…the owlery? He goes there sometimes to check on Hedwig," Ron suggested, only to be shut down by Snape who had checked there already.

"The abandoned girls bathroom on the second floor? Hermione offered next, only to shut down by Dumbledore this time.

"Oh! We are so stupid!" Hermione shouted, looking over at Ron as the answer popped into her mind. "Where is the one place Harry can go that no one else can?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders as the professors looked at each other to see if any of them had the answer.

"The Chamber of Secrets!" Hermione exclaimed. " You have to speak Parseltongue to enter. Harry is the only one who can."

"Not the only one," Ron admitted, watching as all eyes landed on him. "Harry talks in his sleep. I picked up a few words."

"Alright," Severus said after a moment of thinking. "You come with me, Weasley, open the door, and I will go down. Alone," he said, eyeing the redhead severely. "I will bring Harry back to my chambers, as I doubt he will want to go to the hospital wing," Severus explained quietly to the other Professors, who responded with small nods of approval.

"We're going too," Hermione spoke up.

"You will not," Minerva told her. "You will go back to your common room. And the same applies to you, Mr. Weasley, once you have finished assisting Professor Snape."

"But Professor…!"

"Miss Granger, I don't want to repeat myself," Minerva warned as Severus led Ron away.

The walk down to the bathroom was uneasy. Once there, Ron went to the sink, ran his thumb over the snake that was imprinted on the tap and spoke the few words of Parseltongue that he could recall. The sink snapped as it slowly opened to reveal the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

Severus peered down the long dark tunnel before turning back to the boy. "Go back to your dormitory, . Any arguing and I will take points." He was in no mood to deal with the stubborn child.

Like Hermione, Ron knew that something strange was going on. Unlike Hermione, he also knew that now wasn't the time for demanding answers. Harry was family to him, he cared about him as much as one of his own brothers. And if he wanted to help him, the best way was to step back and let the professors do whatever needed to be done.

Once Ron left the bathroom, Severus took a deep breath and jumped into the hole. He let out a yell as his back hit the slide and he picked up speed, plummeting into the darkness.


	3. The Good with the Bad

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Three - The Good With The Bad

Snape shot down the forty-foot tunnel at full speed, only to land with a groan on the pile of bones that was waiting for him at the end. He was getting too old for this sort of thing, and he was pretty sure that he was going to wake up tomorrow morning feeling like he had gained a few years.

He stood, the animal bones cracking under his feet, and looked back up the tunnel, glad he had thought to bring a portkey with him. He didn't think his body would survive a trip back up.

With a small wave of his wand to give him a bit of light, he slowly started to make his way down the long tunnel, following the path of a very large snake skin. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find once he reached Harry. He had only seen one memory, but he had felt that there were others. The boy would clearly be a mess. He only hoped that he would find him in one piece.

Snape soon found himself standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Stone pillars carved in the shape of serpents rose to the ceiling through a greenish gloom. A Basilisk corpse lay on the floor next to a giant pool of water. Harry huddled on the floor next to it, his knees pulled up to his chest, his hands gripping his hair as he tried to block out the rush of memories.

Snape ran to Harry and knelt beside him.

"Get away from me!" Harry yelled as Snape reached out his hands. He let out a scream as more flashes of what happened three years ago came back to him. "I…I just want it to stop!" he cried out, closing his eyes tightly.

Snape was at a loss for words. He didn't know how to comfort a child in pain. As a man who had never been never comforted himself, he had no frame of reference. His father always told him that crying was a sign of weakness, that a man never showed his true emotions, that he was to keep them to himself. He should have realized that his father was wrong. Perhaps if he had, he wouldn't be the man he was today.

"I need you to relax Harry. Don't fight me." Snape placed his hands on Harry's temples. "Legilimens," he said, once again entering Harry's mind, this time in search of any happy memories that could calm the child down.

He pushed past Lockhart, not wanting to witness any more horror, and kept pushing forward until he found the memories of Harry's friends, believing those would be the best.

Snape watched Harry and Hermione as the two of them stood in the Gryffindor common room in their pyjamas.

"This is silly," Harry muttered.

"Do you want to learn how to dance or not? The Yule Ball is only a week away! Now put your hands on my hips." Hermione instructed as she placed her hands on Harry's shoulders.

Harry turned a bright red "I…I don't..think so," he stuttered.

"Harry..." Hermione warned. Harry caved and placed his hands on Hermione hips just before the memory changed.

Harry, Hermione and Ron sat around a table in the Gryffindor common room.

"Alright, my turn!" Harry said as he closed his eyes and held out his hand.

Ron smiled, picking out three Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and placing them in Harry's hand. Harry popped them in his mouth, his face scratching up as he chewed.

"…Spinach…toothpaste…and I want to say earwax," Harry guessed.

Hermione let out a sigh as she looked at the box. "Still the champion," she said, seeing that Harry had guessed each of them correctly.

The memory changed once again to show Harry, Hermione and Ron down at Hogsmeade during what must have been a December trip judging by the snow. The three friends ran around throwing snowballs at each other until Ron was able to grab Harry from behind.

"Alright Hermione, I got him!" Ron yelled, holding Harry's arms behind his back.

Hermione smiled, tossing and catching a snowball in her hand a couple of times before throwing it at Harry.

"Cheating!" Harry yelled as the snowball hit him in the face.

"How else are we supposed to win with those quidditch reflexes of yours?" Ron laughed.

Snape kept feeding Harry good memories until he was able to lull the boy to sleep with them. It was an old Legilimency trick, to use someone's memories to make them feel excitement or fear, or in Harry's case, peace and contentment.

Snape took the portkey out of his pocket, and lifting the boy in his arms, activated it, holding him tightly as they spun away. Arriving in his chambers, he took Harry to his guest room and placed him gently on the bed to rest.


	4. Everything doesn't Have a Reason

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Four - Everything doesn't Have a Reason

Harry woke up with a jolt to find himself in a warm, soft bed. The room he was in was a light cream colour with matching curtains, sparsely furnished with just a basic bed and nightstand. Bookshelves lined the walls as though the room was meant to be more a library than a bedroom. Most of the books appeared to be about Potions or the Dark Arts. An old patch quilt lay neatly folded at the end of the bed.

As all the memories came back to him, Harry pulled off his glasses and pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall. He drew in a shaky breath before sitting up, taking the quilt and wrapping it around his shoulders for a little bit of comfort. He replaced his glasses before standing up and making his way to the door, opening it slowly in an effort to make as little nose as possible.

He took another shaky breath when he heard voices coming from down the hall.

"I'm not doing it, Albus!" Snape said angrily. "The boy's mind is not stable enough for me to go back in. It wouldn't be safe for either of us!"

"But the Dark Lord…"

"Wouldn't dare to enter a mind as unstable as Harry's is right now," Snape spoke over him, cutting Dumbledore off. "As I said, it would be too dangerous! The Dark Lord wouldn't risk his own safety."

Snape didn't know why he was even trying to help Harry when he could easily just pass the problem off to the Headmaster or the boy's Head of House. Instead the child was sleeping in his guest bedroom. For years he had despised the boy, thinking he was nothing but a copy of James Potter. But shifting through the boy's memories in the Chamber of Secrets, he had learned that Harry was more like his mother.

Not once did he find a memory of the boy being cruel to anyone. He helped his housemates as well as students from other houses. Snape had even seen Harry helping one of his Slytherins cast a Patronus charm, encouraging him to think of a happy memory.

Harry judged others on their merits, never on their house, their appearance or their interests. He treated everyone with equal kindness, the same kindness that Lily had.

Snape was brought back from his thoughts when the floorboards creaked, looking up to find the boy standing in the doorway.

"Harry?" Snape said, not even realizing that he was using the boy's first name. He no longer saw the child as the spawn of James, but as the child of Lily.

"My dear boy," Dumbledore said when he saw Harry. "Come and sit with me. Let's talk." He led the boy to one of the arm chairs in the living room.

Harry wrapped the quilt tighter around himself as he sat down. He didn't feel like talking. His immediate plan was to let the old man talk, giving small nods here and there to make it look like he was listening, and then escape back into solitude as soon as possible.

"I know how you feel…"

"No you don't!" Harry spat in anger, his plans forgotten. After that first sentence he knew there was now way he could just sit back and listen to the Headmaster talk.

Severus sat back at the kitchen table, watching as the scene unfolded. He was surprised that Harry hadn't jumped out of his chair and strangled the Headmaster with his own beard after he'd started off with such an empty platitude.

"…You are right, my dear boy, I don't…but things always…"

"Don't you dare finish that!" Harry screamed, shocking Dumbledore enough that the man flinched back a little.

"What were you about to say? What were you going to say? That things always happen for a reason?" Harry yelled. "It didn't happen for a reason! There was no reason at all!"

Snape kept quiet and allowed Harry to blow up on the Headmaster. Dumbledore needed a reality check on the situation.

"I want you out… Get out!" Harry screamed.

"Harry…" Dumbledore spoke softly before Snape decided it was time to step in.

"The child asked you to leave," he said simply.

"I will come back later so we can have a little talk," Dumbledore said as he stood. When Harry didn't respond, he sighed and took his leave.

Silence spread across the chambers, the only sound coming from the kitchen, where Snape busied himself with making breakfast to give the boy time to compose himself.


	5. An Ironically Perfect Place

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Five - An Ironically Perfect Place

Harry glanced around the living room. It wasn't much different from the room where he woke. Bookshelves ran along the cream-coloured walls and brown leather couches were arranged around the fireplace. It reminded him of the Gryffindor common room. It was nothing Harry would have expected of his Potions Professor's chambers; he had kind of expected to find a coffin in the corner.

Harry tossed his glasses on the coffee table between the couches and pressed his palms against his eyes once again. He didn't know what to think about being here; he and Snape had hated each other for years and now he was sitting in the man's living room.

And ironically, he honestly couldn't think of any other place he would rather be. The Headmaster was too cheerful, he hated the hospital wing with a passion, and he couldn't stand being in the Gryffindor dorms or with his Head of House right now. Snape's chambers seemed like the best place to be.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts by Snape's voice.

"Sorry?" Harry looked up at the blurry figure of his Professor. "I didn't hear you."

"What do you want to drink?"

Harry's only response was a small noise of surprise. It was so strange to hear such a mundane question come from Snape.

"I have tea," Snape offered. Harry gave a small flinch. " I also have pumpkin juice or I can send my house elf down to…"

"Pumpkin juice is fine…sir," Harry cut in, not wanting to be a bother.

Snape didn't respond, only poured Harry a glass and brought it over to the coffee table along with a plate of eggs and toast in case the boy had an appetite.

"Do they know?" Harry asked, not even acknowledging the food that was set down for him.

"Who?" Snape asked as he sat down across from him.

"Ron and Hermione? Do they know what happened?" Harry's voice cracked a little as he thought about what his friends would think of him if they found out what Lockhart had done.

"No, all they know is that you ran off. It's your choice if you want to tell them or not," Snape explained. Harry gave a small nod.

"Who…who does know?" he stuttered.

Snape took in a breath before he answered. "Besides myself and the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey had to be informed."

Harry stayed silent for a few moments before he spoke up again. "I'm not that hungry" he muttered, staring down at the food in front of him. "Can I take a shower?"

"The shower is down the hall, next to the guest room. Call my House Elf, Cinsy, and she will get you some fresh clothes."

Harry gave a small nod, grabbed his glasses and took off to the bathroom, closing the door before calling the House Elf.

A small Elf, much smaller than Dobby, popped into the bathroom, shifting from foot to foot. Harry waited for the Elf to say something but it soon became clear that the Elf wasn't going to speak.

"Can…can I get some clean clothes please?" Harry asked. The Elf popped out of the bathroom, only to pop back in seconds later with a pair of Hospital Wing pyjamas. "Thank you" Harry said, taking them from the Elf.

Cinsy only gave a nod before popping back out again.

Harry turned on the shower as hot as possible. The water scalded as he stepped inside. He scrubbed his skin raw, but no matter how much he washed he still felt uncleaned. He could still feel Lockhart's hands all over him, his lips touching his skin, his breath on his neck. Unable to take it any longer, he started to dry heave, tears running down his face. He just wanted the memories gone again.

It was an hour and a half before Harry finally turned off the shower and stepped out, drying himself off and putting on the borrowed pyjamas. They were much too big, the fabric hanging off of him.

Harry made his way back out to the living room and found that Snape hadn't moved from his spot on the couch.

"Want to try and eat something?" he asked when he sensed Harry behind him.

"…I can't," Harry muttered. He knew it wasn't logical, but he couldn't help but to think about the tea that Lockhart gave him. Deep down he knew that Snape wouldn't put that potion in his food, but he still couldn't shake the fear. What if he ate that food and then found he couldn't move? Snape would be able to do whatever he wanted to him.

"Would you like me to contact Black for you?" Snape asked, hoping that the boy would lean towards his godfather.

"No!" Harry exclaimed quickly. " I…I don't want him to know…he doesn't need to know," he said, looking down at the ground. Four people were already too many to handle.

He made his way back over to the armchair and sat down, wrapping the quilt back around himself.

"What about Lupin?"

"No…no one, I just want to sit here…and not talk." Harry didn't care if he was being rude. He just wanted to sit in silence and try not to think of anything.

Snape only nodded. He picked up one of the books on the coffee table and flipped it open, settling in to wait until Harry was ready.

Meanwhile Ron and Hermione were having a hard morning. Rumors about what might have happened to Harry spread through the school like wildfire. Some were insane but some did worry Ron and Hermione.

One was that Umbridge had locked Harry in the dungeons, which wasn't that insane to Ron. Another was that Harry had finally lost it and had been taken to St Mungo's. But the one that really got to Ron and Hermione was the rumor that Harry had tried to kill himself.

Hermione feared that this one could be true. Both she and Ron knew that Harry was having a hard time lately. Neither wanted to believe that Harry would do such a thing, but perhaps the idea wasn't as crazy as the rest.

As they walked through the halls everyone's eyes landed on them, some filled with questions, while in others they saw pity.

"I hear the golden boy tried to off himself!" Draco yelled down the hall.

That was the last straw for Hermione. She burst into tears and ran into the nearest bathroom. Ron threw a rude gesture in Draco's direction and followed her.

"Do you really think it's true? Did Harry go to the Chamber of Secrets to kill himself?" Hermione cried to Ron, her heart breaking every time she thought about it.

"I don't know," he replied. "But I bet the teachers found him safe and sound by now. How about we see if we can visit him during lunch?"

Hermione agreed. They would go and see Harry before jumping to any conclusions. They also promised each other not to bring up the rumors. The last thing they wanted was to upset their friend even more.


	6. Draught of Living Death

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Six - Draught of Living Death

Harry didn't speak a word all through the morning. He sat curled up on the couch, wrapped in the old quilt, listening to the turn of the pages as his Professor read. Every now and again his body would twitch as if he had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse as memories of Lockhart popped into his mind.

Snape could see the twitching out of the corner of his eye but decided it would be best if he didn't mention anything. He was just glad that Harry was sitting out in the living room, and not locked away in the bedroom.

It was close to lunchtime before Harry finally spoke.

"What are you reading?"

The question even shocked Harry. He didn't know why he had asked, and he was sure all he was going to get in response was a snarky comeback. Instead, Snape flipped the cover forward.

"Potion Theory: Draught of Living Death," he read aloud before slipping the book back open and continuing to read.

Harry was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "What is it about?" he asked in a mutter, not wanting to anger his professor with too many questions.

Snape slowly lowered his book and looked over at Harry. "You…want to talk about potions?"

"…Maybe…I don't know," Harry said softly. He only knew that he wanted something to keep his mind busy; to keep his mind from drifting back to Lockhart.

Severus let out a long breath.

"Draught of Living Death is a powerful sleeping potion, so powerful that the person who imbibes it appears to be dead. Hence the name," he explained. "The author theorizes that if diluted properly and mixed with Calming Draught, it would put the drinker into a medically induced coma."

"Can't you just do that with a sleeping draught?" Harry asked, remembering the revolting potion Madam Pomfrey would make him swallow whenever he spent the night in the hospital wing.

"A sleeping draught only puts the person to sleep. This method would ensure they felt no pain during the Healing process. Of course the Healers could use pain relief potions instead, but long exposure can lead to addiction. This way would be safer if the person was in need of long term healing."

Harry gave a small nod. "Sounds kind of interesting," he muttered with a little shrug. He expected that to be the end of it, so he was shocked when Snape got up and handed him the book.

"You want lunch, or are you still not hungry?"

Before he could reply, there came a knock at the door.

"Relax, it's probably just another professor," Snape said when he saw Harry jump.

"I don't want to see anyone," Harry said quickly as he watched his professor answer the door, unable to see whoever was behind it, and hoping that meant they couldn't see him.

"Shouldn't you two be in the great hall?" Snape said with customary coldness as he stared down at the two Gryffindors in his doorway.

"We…We just want to see Harry," Hermione stuttered. "Madam Pomfrey said he was staying in your chambers."

Harry froze inside when he heard Hermione's voice. He didn't think he would be able to face his friends.

"Harry is safe," Snape replied, making a mental note to have a talk with the school's Healer. "But he doesn't want to see anyone right now." As Snape made to close the door, the girl slid her foot against the frame, in against the frame, preventing him.

"That's five points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger!" Snape snapped.

"How many points will it take to see Harry?" Ron demanded under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"Watch your tone, Mr. Weasley," Snape sneered, drawing his wand. With a flick of his wrist, the two Gryffindors were propelled backwards out of the doorway. "And that's five more points from Gryffindor!" he added, slamming the door shut on their indignant expressions.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly once Snape had made his way back into the living room.

"It's not a good idea to shut your friends out."

Harry was surprised by the comment. He wouldn't have thought Snape would care what he did.

"I won't… I just need some time…alone," Harry tried to explain. "…I just don't know what to tell them."

Snape gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

"Can…Can I go back to the bedroom?" he asked in a small voice. "I'm feeling kind of tired."

Harry rose from his seat without waiting for a reply and retreated towards the guest room. Snape watched him go in silence. He couldn't really blame the boy for stalling. He didn't know what to say either.


	7. Cibophobia

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Seven - Cibophobia

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon in Snape's guest room, sitting crossed legged on the bed, staring out the window, watching the Hufflepuff quidditch team run plays for the upcoming game and thinking about what Snape had told him.

He did feel a little guilty for pushing his friends out, but he couldn't face them at the moment. He hoped that they could understand. How was he supposed to tell the people he cared about most what happened? Harry couldn't even look at himself in the mirror without being revolted. What if Hermione and Ron felt the same way once they found out?

What if they left him? They were the only real friends he ever had. He didn't think he could take it if they decided he wasn't good enough to be around.

Harry jumped when a knock came to the door, followed by the voice of his professor telling him that it was time for dinner. Harry let out a small groan as he wrapped his arm around his stomach, feeling like it was filled with thousands of butterflies.

Harry slowly made his way out of the room and into the kitchen. "I'm sorry sir… I'm not really hungry at the moment. Could I…"

"You haven't had anything to eat or drink all day," Snape cut in before Harry had a chance to finish what he was saying. "You must be hungry."

"I just…I just…" Harry spoke softly, not knowing how to explain what he was feeling.

"Harry…I didn't…put anything in the…"

"I know you didn't!" Harry quickly said, "I just can't help but think…what if? What if I eat and I won't be able to move and…and you could…" Harry couldn't finish his thought, his voice cracking as he spoke.

Snape gave a small nod of understanding.

"Will you be alright on your own for a while?" he asked.

"Yeah…I will be fine," Harry muttered, heading back to the guest room without even giving his professor a second look.

Snape frowned as he watched the child walk away.

"Cinsy," he called. The elf appeared beside him with a pop. "Keep an eye on the boy while I'm away," he instructed before heading out of his chambers. He made his way to the Hospital Wing to see the one person that could help the child.

After explaining to Madam Pomfrey what was happening, the woman only gave a small shrug, as if she hadn't expected anything else.

"Cibophobia," she said, taking a bottle of burn paste out of a nearby cupboard. "I'm running low," she informed him.

"And what is cibophobia?"

"Fear of food."

"I don't need to know the name!" Snape snapped. "I need to know how to get the damn child to eat, or at least drink something!"

"I told Albus, the boy needs a mind healer."

"You know that can't be done!" Snape shouted. "If it was any other child then yes, the parents would be informed and the child would be able to see a mind healer. But because this child is Harry Potter! It would be in the papers within seconds and you know that can't happen. You know what kind of uproar there would be if people found out what happened. It certainly wouldn't do Harry any good. And there's the Dark Lord to consider... "

Madam Pomfrey tilted her head looking at him with surprise.

"What?" Snape questioned.

"You called the boy by his first name. You've never done that before."

Snape paused for a second before he spoke. "It doesn't mean anything."

Madam Pomfrey let out a small hum of skepticism. "I can try and talk to the boy," she offered. "But I wasn't trained to be a mind healer. My advice? Get the boy to trust you. He will open up on his own."

"Why me? This isn't my problem!" Snape let out a long breath. "How am I supposed to help the boy?"

Madam Pomfrey gave him a small smile. "I have known you since you were eleven years old, Severus. And I know Harry. He's spent more time in this hospital wing than most. And one thing I've learned about him is that he is a fighter. He doesn't let things slow him down. Rather like you," she added over Snape's snort of disgust. "You don't see it because you only see James Potter when you look at Harry. But he is more like Lily than you know. But more than that, Harry is his own person. Perhaps if you took the time to get to know Harry as Harry… you would find that you are exactly the right person to help him."

Snape let out a sigh before giving a small nod. "I will have your burn paste ready by tomorrow," he told her evasively, before storming out of the hospital wing, still just as lost as before.


	8. Bonding

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Eight - Bonding

Hermione took a deep breath as she looked at the crowd gathered in front of her. She flipped through Harry's notes one last time before she spoke to the assembled DA.

"We will be practicing the Patronus Charm again today. Those who have yet to produce one should continue to work on visualizing a happy memory and those who have succeeded will work on holding it for as long as you can. When fighting against Dementors, it's important to keep the charm on stand by." Hermione read aloud. "Does anyone have any questions before we begin?"

Every hand shot up immediately.

"…We will not be answering any questions about Harry." Slowly all of the hands lowered. "All you need to know is that he is unable to join us at this time, so Ron and I will be taking over for him for the time being," Hermione said, trying to sound as stern as possible. "Now split off into the two groups and start practicing. We will be around to see how everyone is doing shortly."

"Good job," Ron whispered to Hermione, giving her a small smile as everyone moved into their groups. "But you can hardly blame them for being curious."

"I just wish we knew what was going on with Harry," she replied. "I can't stand not knowing. So many things are going through my head and none of them are good."

"I know," Ron agreed. "But you know Harry; if we press him he will only pull away more. If he needs time to sort something out then we should give him the time he needs."

Hermione gave a small nod of understanding before she gestured to Ron to start making the rounds to see how everyone was doing.

Meanwhile Harry was finding it hard to focus and it didn't help with the elf, Cinsy, kept popping in every fifteen minutes. He couldn't help but wonder why the elf didn't talk. None of the elves he'd met could seem to keep quiet. Harry wondered if Snape had ordered her to be silent as he got out of bed and made his way out to the living room.

A small whine drew his attention back to the small elf standing behind him, shifting side to side and gripping her ears.

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry assured her, realizing that Snape must have told the elf to keep an eye on him while he was away.

Harry sat down in the armchair and picked up the book the professor had been reading earlier. He flipped to the first page and started to read. Cinsy stood in the corner, watching him.

Harry did find the concept of the book's theory interesting but it was also complicated; if not done just right, you could end up killing the person. That was a heavy burden of responsibility.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts by the professor's return. Without a word, he made his way over to one of the bookshelves and pulled out one of the books. As Harry watched, the bookshelf opened up to reveal the entrance to a potion lab. Colourful bottles of ingredients lined the walls and a cauldron sat in the middle of the room.

"The hospital wing is in need of more Burn Paste… I thought you could help me make some," Snape offered. If he had to get to know the boy as Poppy suggested, he may as well kill two birds with one stone..

Harry was surprised. Not knowing what to say, he got up and followed his professor into the lab. The bookshelf closed behind them as Snape began to pull ingredients from the shelves.

"Ummm… Cinsy..."

"She's a free elf," Snape cut Harry off, guessing what the boy must be thinking. "She is free to go any time she wants, but she chooses to stay."

"…Why doesn't she talk? I've met three house elves and all of them have been really…talkative," Harry asked tactfully.

"... Her old master cut her tongue out," Snape admitted. "The lizard's eyes need to be finely chopped," he instructed, handing Harry a knife.

"Who did she belong to before?…I mean…how did…how did you come to have her?" Harry asked. When he received no answer, he let out a small sigh and started to chop up the eyes. Several minutes passed in silence.

"My father," Snape said suddenly. If he was going to bond with the child, he knew he had to start somewhere. "My father was not a nice man. When he died, Cinsy came to me and I set her free… and she chose to stay."

"…oh…" Harry said, unsure how to respond. Fortunately the awkward silence didn't last long, as his professor cleared his throat.

"So… how is Quidditch going?"

"It's fine, I guess" Harry muttered ambivalently. "How many eyes do we need?"

"A cup of finely chopped lizard eyes… I thought you liked Quidditch?"

"How did you…?"

"I don't need to read your mind," Snape cut Harry off with an amused smirk. "It is quite clear without entering your mind."

"…I don't know…I was just thrown into the game," Harry mused, not even sure why he was admitting this to Snape in the first place. "I wasn't even asked if I wanted to play. Professor McGonagall saw my flying and strongarmed me onto the team. I thought it would be rude to say no."

"Then you don't like Quidditch? Snape asked, confused.

"…I'm good at it," Harry mumbled.

"That's not the same thing," Snape persisted. When Harry didn't answer, he turned back to the cauldron in consternation. "Next you'll tell me you no longer want to be an auror."

Harry gently shook his head. "I never said anything to anyone about wanting to become an auror. If anything, I have been thinking about becoming a healer."

And in the moment Snape understood the boy more than he had in the past five years combined.


	9. Sleepless Nights

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Nine - Sleepless Nights

Harry was up all night reading, fearful of going to sleep. He was afraid that if he closed his eyes for even a second, Lockhart would show up in his dreams. He was used to nightmares; Voldemort, Cedric Diggory and the deaths of his parents ran through his head on a nightly basis. But he didn't think he would be able to handle it if Lockhart was there too.

Snape had gone to bed hours ago and ever since then, Cinsy would pop in every half hour. Every so often she would bring him a fresh glass of water, which he would push to the side. He could see that he was making the elf upset but he couldn't bring himself to drink it. She even went as far as to make him some cheese and crackers, which he also pushed to the side, his stomach protesting as he did.

"Cinsy,'' Harry said softly, not wanting to startle the elf as she went around cleaning the living room, periodically going back to reclean the same spots over and over, as though she was afraid she hadn't done a good enough job the first time. If the elf moved just right Harry could see the scars that littered her back. Harry suspected that the scars were made by a belt. Uncle Vernon also sometimes used a belt as punishment, so Harry had some of the same scars.

"You can go to bed…I will be fine on my own," Harry said when Cinsy looked up, forcing a small smile out in an effort to show the elf that he was fine. All he got in response was a small whine from the elf as she shook her head no and forced him to lift his feet once more so that she could clean under the couch.

Little did Harry know, Ron and Hermione weren't having much luck getting to sleep either. They sat together by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione, never one to remain idle, even in her distress, went over Harry's notes for the next lesson for the DA.

"David is still having trouble producing the Patronus Charm," she said, her voice startling Ron after ten straight minutes of silence.

"Who's David?"

"That fourth year Slytherin boy that joined the DA a few weeks ago," Hermione reminded him.

"Oh yeah. David."

"We should mention that to Harry…you know…when we have the chance," Hermione said, her voice getting softer as her mind traveled back to their absent friend. Ron noticed her renewed silence and guessed its cause.

"Perhaps we should bring Harry a few things, a few changes of clothes and stuff," he offered hopefully. " You never know, maybe it will get us in to see him."

"Maybe," Hermione said with a small smile. "I put some notes down from the DA so if Harry is feeling up to it he could look them over. I can bring the notes I took during class for him too. I'm sure he wouldn't want to fall behind."

"I just wish we knew what was going on," Ron mumbled, letting out a long sigh as he leaned back into the couch. Nothing was the same without Harry. Ron even found that he had trouble sleeping without hearing Harry speak parseltongue in his sleep. It was like listening to his brothers snore when he was home; it was normal.

"Did you remember to feed Hedwig?'' Hermione asked.

"Ya…she bit me," Ron sneered, showing Hermione the bite mark on his hand.

"I'm sure she's just upset. You know how much she loves Harry," Hermione said with a frowned.

"Still hurts," Ron muttered as Hermione went back to the DA notes, wanting them to be perfect before she brought them to Harry.

Meanwhile Harry was trying to calm Cinsy, who was currently banging her head on the coffee table after. Harry had told her that he wasn't hungry after she brought him a ham and cheese sandwich, and apparently that was the last straw.

"Cinsy…please…stop!" Harry whispered, afraid of waking up the professor. Too late, as he heard a door open, and looked behind him to see Snape approaching.

"What happened?" he demanded as he knelt down next to the elf, gently pulling her away from the table so she was unable to hit her head.

"She…She got upset when I wouldn't take the sandwich. I tried to stop her," Harry explained as he watched in shock as his Professor calmed the elf, speaking to her smoothly as he sent her to bed.

"I'm sorry…I should have known," Harry uttered. He had seen Dobby act this way; he should have known that Cinsy would be the same.

Snape paid no attention to Harry's apologies. "How long do you think you can stay awake?"

Harry pressed his lips together and fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt, not knowing what to say.

Snape let out a sigh. "I will give you a vial of Dreamless Sleep for tonight, but don't think it will be a nightly thing. You need to learn how to sleep without it." Snape spoke as he summoned the potion with a flick of his wand and handed it to Harry.

Relieved, Harry gave him a small thank you before heading off to the guest room. He downed the potion before laying down on the bed, letting out a long sigh as he let his eyes close and falling into a dreamless sleep.


	10. Dinner

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Ten - Dinner 

Snape sat at the kitchen table, going over the day's events in his head as he watched the child push his food around on his plate. He had hoped that he could leave to teach his classes for the day without having to worry about Harry , but when he returned to his chambers he had found a box of Harry's belongings outside his door and discovered the child hidden away in his potion lab, cowering in a corner with his hands over his ears. 

Harry's friends had shown up during the day, the boy eventually explained, and shouted in that they weren't leaving until he opened the door. So Harry had locked himself in his potion lab to wait them out. 

“Why didn't you send Cinsy to come and get me?” Snape questioned. 

Harry gave a small shrug, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing. He was fifteen years old, he'd faced Voldemort more than once, he should be able to handle his friends. Instead he'd hidden and prayed for them to go away. 

“I didn't think of it… I just wanted them to go away.” Harry muttered before pushing his plate away, not even touching a single piece of food. 

“What are you afraid of?” Snape asked.

“I told you… What if I eat it and… and I can't move…” Harry looked down at the table, his thoughts boiling over into his expression.

Snape was talking about his friends, but if Harry was ready to talk he wasn't going to risk correcting the child. 

“I just wanted him to stop,” Harry said, his voice cracking a little. “Sometimes…sometimes he wouldn't do anything… he would just hold me," he cried, feeling like the man's hands were all over him once more. “I think that was the worst.” 

Snape listened in silence. He couldn't imagine the pain Harry must be in. 

“He said… he said that I teased him.” 

“Harry, I want you to listen to me," Snape said. "You did no such thing. Lockhart is a sick man. You didn't deserve what happened to you. Do you understand me?” 

Harry took off his glasses, throwing them on the table before pressing his palms into his eyes. 

“I just want it to stop…why can't you use magic… that spell and take away my memories again? Make it so I can't remember, make it the way it was!”

Snape frowned at Harry's request. “If it was possible I would, but repeatedly tampering with the same memories can create holes in someone's mind, leave them unbalanced and brain damaged. It could leave you unable to fly, or unable to walk or talk. You could end up in the locked ward at St. Mungo’s,” he explained. The hopes in Harry's eyes disappeared. Snape hastily changed the subject. “You need to eat. Or at least drink something.” 

“I can’t!” Harry cried. He scrubbed at the tears on his cheeks. “I want to eat, I really do, but I just can’t!” 

“…Would you eat if you made it yourself?” Snape proposed after a moment of thought. 

Harry paused, considering the offer. “I don’t know…maybe,” he replied softly. 

“Come one then.” Snape stood up and tucked his chair back under the table. “I'll take you to the Hogwarts kitchen. There's no one but elves there.” 

Harry gave a quick nod before making his way over to the fireplace with his professor, stepping in as the flames flared green. When he opened his eyes he was in the Hogwarts kitchen. Elves hustled about everywhere preparing food. 

Snape led him to an empty spot in the kitchen and directed him to sit down in one of the old dusty chairs. “It’s a magical kitchen," Snape instructed. "All you have to do is think of what you want and it will appear.” 

Harry gave a small nod before closing his eyes and picturing what he wanted. When he opened his eyes, bread, ham and cheese had appeared on the table along with pumpkin juice still in the bottle. Everything was individually packaged and sealed, unopened and tampered with. And for the first time in the last two days Harry was able to eat without fear.


	11. A Change of Heart

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Eleven - A Change of Heart

Harry propped his legs up on the coffee table, sipping a cup of hot cocoa as he enjoyed the fire that Cinsy had built in the grate. He had just finished writing a letter to his friends, telling them that he was fine but that he wasn't ready to see them yet or explain what was happening.

Harry hoped that they understood. He didn't want another repeat of what happened before. He was still trying to figure out what he should say. He'd spent the past hour trying to come up with a believable lie, but finally decided he should tell them the truth. He just didn't know how he was going to put it into words.

How could he tell his friends what had been done to him when he couldn't even admit it to himself. He just wanted to disappear.

He had even considered using the Time Turner that Hermione had used in their Third year to tell his younger self not to accept Lockhart's tea but he knew it wasn't possible. Even if he could find a way to travel that far back, messing with time was dangerous and for all he knew Lockhart would still have forced himself on him, even if he could fight back.

He was pulled from his thoughts as his professor took the seat across from him, a cup of tea in hand.

"We need to talk," Snape said, breaking the silence that had filled the chambers for the past few hours.

Harry didn't say anything, looking down into his mug, watching the small marshmallows melt into his drink.

"You need to talk to someone about what happened," Snape started seeing that Harry wasn't going to respond. "I believe you already understand why you cannot see a professional at St. Mungo's, but you can talk to either myself or Madam Pomfrey...unless there's someone else you want to talk to. Depending on who it is, we may be able to arrange it."

"I don't want to talk to anyone," Harry muttered after a few moments of silence.

"I wasn't making it a choice, " Snape replied, taking a sip of his tea.

"What am I supposed to talk about?" Harry mumbled, looking over at his professor. "I don't want to think about it, much less talk about it. It's not going to help, it's not going to change what happened. It's all going to stay the same.''

"How do you know it won't help?" Snape questioned.

Harry glared down into his mug and didn't reply.

"Harry...Lockhart raped you," Snape said, watching as Harry twitched violently, almost spilling his drink. "Lockhart raped you," he said once more, realizing that Harry had yet to admit it to himself.

"Stop it!" Harry cried.

"Say it, Harry" Snape commanded in his usual cold tone. "Lockhart drugged you and raped you...over and over again."

"Stop it!" Harry screamed. A glass shattered as his magic surged with his emotions. "I don't want to," he cried.

"And why not?"

"...because if I say it… it means that it's true." Tears rolled down Harry's face. "I still expect Ron to wake me up for breakfast...to wake up in my dorms to find out that it was nothing but a nightmare. If I say it, it will mean that I won't be waking up."

"Harry," Snape spoke more gently, "it's not a dream. What Lockhart did was inexcusable and it should have never have happened. But it did and it's something that you need to come to terms with. Otherwise you won't like where you will end up. It will take time, but you must begin to take the first steps… so I want you to see your friends. They can even come here if you want," he offered.

He didn't like the idea of two Gryffindors, especially a Weasley in his chamber but he could see that Harry was cutting himself off, retreating inside himself, and he didn't want that for the boy. He knew all too well that if Harry kept this up he would become cold and bitter, hating everyone around him. It was a lonely way to live, he should know, and he didn't want Harry's life to turn out the way his had.

Harry should be out, enjoying life with his friends. Not stuck in the Dungeon Bat's chambers watching marshmallows melt.

"I can't, " Harry muttered.

"I'm not saying that you have to tell them anything. Talk about Quidditch or the latest gossip that's going around the school, play a game of Wizard chess. You don't have to let them in, but you can't cut your friends out. All I'm asking from you is to have them over. Fifteen minutes, that's it… please."

Snape had never said please in his life, but he needed Harry to do this. He needed Harry not to turn out the way he did.

Message delivered, he left Harry to ponder his words, instructing Cinsy to keep an eye on him while he escaped into his potions lab.

Harry spent the next hour going over what Snape had said. He eventually came to the conclusion that if they came here, and Snape was present, having his friends over wouldn't be that bad. If things got out of hand, Snape could always throw them out.

He got up and wrote another letter to them, asking that they come by tomorrow night if they wanted, before giving it to Cinsy to take to the owlery.

He spent the rest of the night coming up with new lesson plans for the DA to give to Hermione. He still cared about everyone and he didn't want them to fall behind in their training. Once he was done that he decided he had better catch up on his school work. He read chapter five to seven in his transfiguration textbook before he moved onto charms for the night.

Hermione and Ron were sitting on the floor of the common room playing Wizard's chess when they heard a tapping noise on one of the windows.

"I'll get it," Hermione said. The owl on the sill had a letter for someone. "Who are you here to see?" she asked rhetorically as she opened the window and allowed the owl inside. "It's from Harry!" she exclaimed a moment later, shocked. They had already received a letter earlier saying that Harry wasn't ready to see them, so she couldn't help but be surprised. She quickly broke the seal, making her way back over to Ron as she read.

"Well?" Ron asked impatiently.

A smile split Hermione's face ear to ear. "Harry says we can come over tomorrow night after dinner!"

She passed the letter to Ron, who read it over himself before letting out a whoop of excitement and sharing a broad grin with Hermione. At last, after two excruciating days of worry and effort, they would finally get to see their friend.


	12. Confession

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twelve - Confession

Harry stared at the clock, listening to every tick it made, watching as the second hand slowly made its way around only to start again when it got to the twelve.

Five minutes soon became four minutes, and four minutes became three, and any minute now his friends would be knocking on the door.

And with each minute that passed by Harry regretted more and more the decision to see his friends.

He wanted to go and hide in his room until they left, let Snape deal with them, but for some reason he didn't understand, he didn't want to disappoint his professor.

All Professor Snape had asked of him was to see his friends, nothing else, and after all Snape had done for him these last couple of days he felt like he should at least try to do what the man asked of him.

There was a knock at the door. Harry felt like his heart would jump out of his chest. He hadn't been this nervous since his first Quidditch game.

He quickly made his way back to the couch and sat down, taking in a couple of deep breaths to calm himself as he watched the professor answer the door.

Snape didn't even have time to say a word before the two Gryffindors pushed passed him and made a beeline straight to Harry. Hermione wrapped Harry in a tight hug, oblivious to the way he flinched at the contact.

"We were so worried!" Hermione cried, hugging Harry even tighter. "Are you alright? What happened?"

Both Hermione and Ron had agreed not to ask Harry any questions before knocking on the door. But the moment Hermione saw Harry, everything else flew out of her head in a heartbeat.

"Hermione...let him take a breath," Ron spoke, pulling Hermione off their friend before she could earn a stern warning from Snape.

Hermione quickly sat down on the couch along with Ron across from Harry.

"Sorry," Hermione muttered, looking down at her feet. The three fell into an awkward silence.

"...I did the homework you sent," Harry said finally, handing the papers to Hermione. "Also the...stuff is in there for the… thing"

Hermione gave a quick nod, understanding the code Harry was speaking in. "Thanks... I will get these to the professors," she said with a small smile. Another round of silence hit the room.

It was nearing minute three when Hermione broke down into tears. "Harry...please be honest with us. We are your friends and we care about you very much, we won't judge you." She cried as she took Harry's hand in hers. "We know that things have been hard on you lately. Did you...did you go into the Chamber of Secrets to harm yourself?" More tears streamed down her face. "It's ok if you did. We won't judge you. We just want to help Harry!"

"What?" Harry asked, shocked. "No...no...I would never! I didn't go down there to...to kill myself!" he told her, aware that Snape was hearing everything that was being said from the kitchen. "Is that what people are saying? That I tried to off myself?" he asked, afraid of the rumours that might be going around the school.

"It doesn't matter what they are saying mate," Ron spoke up at last. He always said the same thing when Harry got upset about articles in the papers and it always helped to calm him. It helped to know that not everyone believed what was being said about him.

"We just want to help...please talk to us," Hermione softly pleaded, squeezing Harry hand a little.

"...I want to… I really do, but I can't..." Harry replied haltingly. "It's not because of you. Something

happened..." he tried to explain, looking over at Snape.

"Does it have something to do with Umbridge?" Ron asked.

"No…" Harry was hesitant before he spoke again. "During my lessons with Professor Snape… a memory that had been magically hidden came up"

"It's Voldermort then?" Hermione asked.

"No it has nothing to do with him… it was Lockhart… during our second year..." And before Harry knew what was happening, the words came spilling out. "He raped me!"

Harry hid his face and cried out at the shocked and horrified expressions that washed over his friends' faces.

Snape was quick on his feet, pushing the two Gryffindor's up and out before either of them could say a word. Slamming the door, he made his way back to Harry and was surprised when the boy wrapped his arms around him.

"He… he raped me… over and over again… and I couldn't do anything to stop it!" Harry cried. "I can still feel his hands… touching me..."

Snape wrapped his arms around the child. He had never been good at offering comfort, never having received any as a child, but he couldn't leave Harry with nothing, not when the boy was seeking solace of any kind.

"It's alright...he can't hurt you anymore."

Harry only shook his head. "He's still with me… I can feel him… I can hear him, speaking to me..."

"I know...but the pain will fade..."

Harry didn't say another word, just wept in his professor's arms until exhaustion overtook him.

Snape picked the child up and carried him to bed, tucking the blankets around him. He was glad that the child had finally opened up. Now maybe he could begin to heal.


	13. Nightmare Bonding

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Thirteen - Nightmare 

"Hush, my little Harry, everything is going to be fine," Lockhart said sweetly as he ran his fingers through the naked child's hair.

Harry had already taken the potion, had no choice but to take it, so he was only able to let out small whimpers here and there as Lockhart gently kissed him on the lips and neck, speaking to him softly as if he were a frightened puppy. 

"Now, I know how much you want to please me, " Lockhart said as he eased Harry down onto his knees in front of him. He opened his robes up and took out his hardened member.

"You are such a good boy for me Harry, " Lockhart said as he pressed it to Harry's lips and gently slid it in, letting out a soft moan as he reached the back of his throat.

He pressed his hand on the back of the boy's head as he slowly began to move his hips forwards and back, letting Harry saliva coat his penis before pulling out and lifting Harry atop his throbbing erection and pushing him down onto it.

Harry whimpered as he felt himself being stretched, a burning pain shooting up his spine, until he felt as though he was about to be ripped in two.

"So warm inside, " Lockhart groaned as he lay back and settled Harry on top of him, rubbing the child's testicles, kissing his neck whenever he whimpered as if to offer comfort.

"Harry… Harry you're alright… Harry wake up!" The voice changed from Lockhart’s to Snape's as Harry fought his way out of the nightmare. "Harry wake up, come on boy, wake up!"

Harry shot up in bed, tears streaming down his face as he cried out.

"Get him off of me! Get him off of me! " Harry screamed, his hand clawing at the Professor robes.

"Harry he isn't on you, he's not here, you're safe!" Snape said as he took the boys hands in his, giving them a small squeeze to let him know he was there..

Harry could only manage to shake his head as he burst into fresh tears. "He's here...I can feel him… the things he made me do. I didn't want to!" he cried in short sharp gasps. The room spun and he couldn’t seem to get enough air. 

"Harry calm down now," Snape said, worried about how the child was working himself up. Lifting him, he slid onto the bed, allowing Harry to learn against his chest so he could feel his breathing. "Deep breaths. In....and out...in....and out." 

Harry tried his best to do what he was told but was soon choking on the air. Letting out a sigh, Snape tried a different tactic. 

“What are the ingredients to Burn Paste?” Snape questioned. “Come on child, if you want to be healer this is something that you need to know.” 

“...Corn oil,” Harry was able to get out between the sobs. “ Mallow leaves and stems… aloe… chickweed… and… and slug juice.”

“And what's the brewing time?” 

“Ninety minutes… shelf life is six months…”

“Very good,” Snape said, impressed. “Now what is in Skele-Gro?” he asked, choosing a harder potion this time. 

Once again Harry listed off the correct ingredients, brewing time and the shelf life. 

Snape continued with two more potions until the child had calmed down and fallen asleep in his arms, exhausted. 

Severus gently shifted the child off onto the bed, careful not to wake him, and rose to leave. 

“Leave the light on,” Harry muttered just as Severus was about to turn it out. 

“I am right down the hall if you need anything,” Severus replied softly. “And don't forget you can call Cinsy as well.” 

With that Severus pulled the door shut and made his way back to his room, where he collapsed into bed and stared up at the ceiling. He had no clue on how to help Harry move on. How could anyone move on from this? 

“Lily, help me,” he murmured. “What do I do?” 

*

Little did Snape know that Ron and Hermione were having the same conversation, huddled together under Harry's invisibility cloak in the Restricted Section of the library. 

“I don’t understand how this could have happened! How could we not know that something was going on?” Hermione whispered. 

“We may have… he… he could have erased our memories as well,” Ron suggested with a frown. 

“How do we even help him? I can’t imagine what he is going through. This isn't Voldermort… this ...this is something else. We can’t fight this, there's no spell that can be used.”

“It's not our battle to fight,” Ron said. “It's Harry’s. All we can do is be there for him.”

“How can we do that when he wont even let us near?” Hermione cried, feeling useless. 

“Well… we let him know. Let him know that when he is ready we will be there...“

“...let him know that we don't think of him any differently, that he's still the same Harry,” Hemrione finished Ron's sentence. 

The two sat in the library under the cloak for the rest of the night, talking about ways that they could let Harry know that they were there for him, and always would be.


	14. Friendship

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Fourteen - Friendship

"Harry?" Hermione called as she knocked on the door to Professor Snape's chambers. She and Ron had decided to stop by before class to see if Harry would talk to them, but after the fifth knock it became clear that Harry wasn't going to answer. "Alright Harry you don't have to open up," Hermione yelled through the door. "But you still have to listen! Ron and I..." Before Hermione could finish the door swung open to reveal a small house elf..

"Oh… hi!" Hermione said, a little shocked.

"Is Harry..." Cinsy interrupted Ron with a small whine and pointed down the hall.

Hermione gave Ron a worried look. The elf had to be in terrible distress to have shown such discourtesy to a wizard. Brushing past the elf, she pushed open the bathroom door to find Harry sitting on the floor, surrounded by broken glass.. The mirror over the sink was shattered.

"Ron!" Hermione called, grabbing the hand towel off the rack. "Harry, you're bleeding!" She gently pressed it to the oozing gash across his knuckles as she knelt beside him, mindful of the shards..

"I...I didn't notice..." Harry muttered, staring at his hand cradled in hers so that he didn't have to look up and meet her eyes, or acknowledge Ron, who now stood just outside the door.

"You didn't notice your hand was bleeding?"

Harry shook his head "...everything is numb."

Hermione removed the towel to see bits of glass embedded in the wound. "We have to get Madam Pomfery to look at this."

"No… no Madam Pomfrey," Harry said, finally looking up at Hermione.

"But…" She bit her lip, trying to think what to do. "Alright. Ron, help me." Each taking an arm, they together helped Harry to his feet and led him out to sit on one of the leather couches close to the fire.

"Could you get me some bandages and a disinfectant?" Hermione asked the elf who was standing watch a few feet away. "Ron, Get a bowl of warm water and a clean cloth."

Cinsy gave a small nod and popped out of the room while Ron headed off to the kitchen.

"What happened?" Hermione asked once she and Harry were alone.

Harry shook his head a bit before he spoke "...I'm disgusting " he choked out. "...can't stand the sight of myself."

Hermione's face scrunched up with distress, but before she could reply, both Ron and the elf returned with the requested items.

Hermione dipped the cloth into the water. "This will sting a little but I have to clean it up," she warned as she took the towel off and gently dabbed at the blood that surrounded the cuts.

"Stop!" Harry snapped. He pulled his hand away from hers. "I can see it."

"See what?"

"The pity… I can see the pity."

"Perhaps it has something to do with the shards of glass in your hand?" she retorted, taking Harry's hand back into her own and drawing out her wand. "Now hold still. I have to remove the glass before I can do anything."

With a twirl and a swish, she slowly extracted sliver after sliver of splintered mirror. Ron winced as each one slid free to clatter onto the table between them, but Harry never wavered.

"Are you doing ok?" Hermione asked as the last piece fell away, wiping away the fresh blood. He must be in pain despite his stoicism..

"What are you doing here?"

"We wanted to come see you before class," Hermione explained. "This will hurt," she added, taking the cork out of the potion bottle and pouring the contents onto his hand.

Harry let out a hiss as smoke rose from the cuts.

"Sorry," Hermione said sympathetically

"But why are you here?" Harry persisted, a few tears falling down his face as he spoke. "You know what Lockhart did… you know what I am."

"You are Harry Potter," Hermione stated as she bandaged Harry's hand as gently as she could. "You are our friend and always will be, no matter what!" She tied the bandage off, then smiled at him softly. "My friend who doesn't know how to keep his glasses clean." Plucking his glasses off his nose, she cleaned the lenses on her shirt before replacing them. "We don't care what happened. You are still the same old Harry to us."

"That's right, mate!" Ron spoke up.

"I don't feel like the same old Harry!" Harry cried.

"I know… I know you don't. I'm not going to tell you that I know what you are going though, because I don't, but I will tell you that Ron and I will be here for you no matter what."

Harry gave a small nod as he tried to hold back his tears, not wanting to cry in front of his friends.

Hermione noted his struggle. "It's still early. How about you go back to bed for a bit longer?" Hermione suggested, offering him a way out.

Harry gave another small nod, embarrassed and grateful as he allowed Ron and Hermione to walk him to the guest room. Hermione tucked him into bed. "Thanks, guys," he murmured as she set his glasses on the nightstand.

"We aren't going to leave you Harry," Hermione promised him. "Now close your eyes and get some rest."

"You were great, 'Mione," Ron told her once the door was closed. Hermione smiled shyly.

"I really don't want to leave him alone," she said as they walked back to the living room.. "We should stay at least until Professor Snape gets back."

"Alright," Ron replied, already thinking the same thing.

Together they cleaned up the bathroom and the living room before Hermione pestered Ron into working on homework. They curled up side by side on the couch with their school books and, keeping their ears trained on the guest room door, settled in to wait.


	15. Ten Points To Gryffindor

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Fifteen - Ten Points To Gryffindor

"Professor Snape!"

Snape let out a low groan at the shrill voice echoing down the corridor and turned to face Dolores Umbridge, struggling not to cringe at the alarming shade of pink the woman wore.

"How may I help you?" he asked politely, eager to get this interaction over with. He had finished his classes for the morning and was on his way back to his chambers to check on Harry.

Umbridge scurried to a halt before him and flipped open her clipboard. "I have it here that Mr. Potter hasn't attended classes for the past few days."

"Perhaps he's sick," he replied. "Students are allowed to miss class when they are ill." He turned to escape but was brought up short by the woman's ear-piercing hum.

"Then one wonders why he isn't in the hospital wing."

Snape closed his eyes, gathering his patience before turning back around.

"One wonders why you are asking me rather than his Head of House. But were I to guess, I would suppose that Madam Pomfrey has better things to do than look after a student with a mere case of the sniffles. Mr. Potter is likely in Gryffindor tower resting. If Minerva is unavailable, I'm sure Mr. Weasley or Miss Granger can vouch for him."

"I would, but it appears that neither Mr. Weasley nor Miss Granger attended morning classes."

Snape scolded in annoyance. "A remarkable coincidence," he observed smoothly.

"Isn't it?" A nasty smirk stretched the woman's toad-like face. "As you are aware, student organizations have been disbanded. Any student caught in noncompliance will be summarily expelled."

"I do recall," Snape replied carefully, inclining his head in a conspiratory fashion. "And I can assure you that should I catch wind of any such organizations, you will be the very first to know." He paused, plastering a convincingly devious look on his features. "Oh, and do let me be the one to take care of Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. I shall see that they get exactly what they deserve for skipping class." Disgusted by the cruel gleam in her eye, Snape backed firmly away. "Now if you don't mind I have another class to prepare for."

Not waiting for a reply, Snape turned and stalked away before his mask of indifference could crack, his black cloak trailing behind him.

...

Hermione let out a loud sigh as she closed her History of Magic textbook, startling Ron out of his haze.

"I'm going to check on Harry," she announced before standing up and heading towards the guest room.

"You've already checked on him five times," Ron said softly, not wanting to wake Harry.

"I know," Hermione replied as she walked down the hall and gently opened the door to find Harry still sleeping.

She was making her way back to the living room when the front door opened.

Snape glared at the two uninvited Gryffindors for a few moments, annoyed but unsurprised. "Funny, I was sure this was my sitting room, not the Gryffindor common room," he said through his teeth. "First allow me to assure you that you will be scrubbing the floors of my dungeon for a week. Now," he continued in a tone that usually made First years wet themselves, "how did you two get in here?"

"S...sir..." Hermione stuttered. "We came to see Harry this morning... a house elf answered the door. Harry was hurt, he broke the mirror in the bathroom and he was bleeding," she explained as fast as she could. "He wouldn't go to Madam Pomfery so I fixed it as best I could… we didn't want to leave him alone so we stayed," she finished, taking a long breath.

Snape considered the two for a moment before walking past them. "You may leave."

"But sir…"

"Leave."

Hermione and Ron quickly packed up their books. But before either of them could reach the door they heard Snape say under his breath as he disappeared down the hall:

"Ten points to Gryffindor...each...for sticking by a friend."

Astonished, Hermione turned to Ron, a small smile spreading across her face as they hurried out the door.

In the guest bedroom, Severus sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully took Harry's hand, pulling up the edge of the bandage to see the damage. Harry suddenly jerked his hand away.

"It's only me," Severus said calmly. "I just want to survey Miss Granger's work," he explained before taking Harry's hand back into his.

"Don't be mad at her," Harry muttered, still half asleep.

"Miss Granger?"

"Cinsy… I told not to bother you."

Severus gave a small nod in understanding. "I need you to be honest with me… did you hurt yourself on purpose?"

Harry looked up at him for a moment before he spoke. "...no… no, I just… I just couldn't stand looking at myself," he admitted. "I didn't even realize I'd done it… I'm sorry about the mirror."

"I don't care about the mirror, the mirror can easily be fixed."

Harry gave a small nod before speaking again. "'I want to see him."

"See who?" Snape asked, confused.

"... Lockhart."

"I don't think that would be a good..."

"Please," Harry cut him off. "Please, I have to see him..."

Severus was quiet for a moment while he wrapped the boy's hand. "...I will see if I can set up an appointment. Now go back to sleep. If you need anything, I will be in my potion lab," he added, deciding to take a page from the Gryffindors and cancel the rest of his classes for the day.


	16. No Longer a Child

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Sixteen- No Longer a Child

"You can't mean to tell me you think this is a good idea?" Dumbledore said, pacing back and forth in Severus's kitchen the next morning. Harry was still asleep in the guest room.

"It's not about what I think," Snape replied. "The boy wants to face him."

"He's only a child," Dumbledore retorted.

"He's fifteen and capable of making his own decisions!" Snape snapped. "I'm not asking for your permission, all I'm asking is for you to keep Umbridge busy so she doesn't notice that I'm gone."

He had already thought the plan out, but he and Harry would be leaving a few hours before dinner and he knew Umbridge would become suspicious if he wasn't in the Great Hall for supper.

Dumbledore let out a sigh, taking off his glasses and cleaning them, which he always did when he was thinking. "This is going to end badly, " he said, placing his glasses back on his nose.

"Perhaps. Or maybe this will help the boy to move on...face his fears? Isn't that what Gryffindor's do?" Snape said, rolling his eyes a little at the last part. "If the boy wants to see Lockhart, I'm not going to stop him."

"And you will be there for him?" Dumbledore asked.

"Of course."

Severus carefully neglected to mention that after the visit with Lockhart he intended to take the child out for supper and a serious talk. It was clear that Harry was living a double life. The boy didn't like playing Quidditch but was afraid to say no. He wanted to be a healer rather than an auror, and from what Severus had discovered in the last few days, he would make a good one.

What else was the boy hiding?

He was brought out of his thoughts as the Headmaster spoke again. "Alright, I will make sure Umbridge stays busy," Dumbledore said, standing. "I would have liked to see Harry before I go, but I have an important meeting and I must not be late."

As he showed him out, Severus wondered just how important the meeting really was.

"Cinsy" he called once Dumbledore was gone. The little elf popped up in front of him. "I would like a light breakfast this morning for both Harry and I, and also a healing potion...please."

Once the elf popped out Severus went to wake Harry.

"Time to get up," Severus said softly, lighty shaking the boy's shoulder until he started to stir.

"...alright," Harry muttered as Snape stepped out to allow him to dress. It was weird being woken up like this, because it reminded of all the times Ron had had to wake him up; the weird part was that it didn't feel all that weird anymore.

By the time Harry came out of his room, Severus was sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of coffee, reading the morning edition of the Daily Prophet.

"It shouldn't be long before Cinsy arrives with breakfast," Severus said as Harry sat down at the table. "I also made the appointment to see Lockhart this evening," he added as Cinsy popped in with two bowls of oatmeal and a fruit platter, as well as the potion Severus had requested.

"That soon?" Harry asked, shocked.

Snape lowered the paper. "That is what you wanted, right?"

"...y-yes...I just didn't think it would be so soon, is all…" he replied nervously. "Is there… I mean would… will there be other people there?" His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but the truth was that he was afraid to be alone with the man.

"If it would make you feel better, I could come in with you," Severus offered. "We can also ask that a guard be present."

Harry gave a small nod, relieved and trying not to show it. Still embarrassed, he hastily grabbed a strawberry from the platter and began cutting it up into his oatmeal.

"Take the potion," Snape added, turning back to his paper. "It's for your hand."

Harry gave another distracted nod, uncorking the potion and downing it before tucking in to his breakfast. Severus went back to his reading, very carefully neglecting to comment on the fact that the boy had taken both the potion and the food without any hint of trepidation.


	17. The Visit

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Seventeen- The Visit

Harry stood just outside the doors of 's psychiatric ward, studying his surroundings. It wasn't that different to a muggle hospital. Everything was a blinding white and the smell of disinfectant stung his nose. He played with the cuffs of his sleeves as he waited for Professor Snape to finish talking with the witch behind the reception desk, feeling lost. He didn't know what he was expecting to happen when he saw Lockhart, didn't know why he was doing this, he just knew that he needed to see the man.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Snape asking him to hand over his wand.

"What? Why?" Harry demanded anxiously.

"They won't allow anyone to enter the floor with a wand. You have to hand it in here," Snape explained, setting his own wand on the desk.

"I… what if… what if something happens and I need it?" Harry stuttered. What if Lockhart tried something? What if something happened and he didn't have any way to defend himself?

"The guards have wands," Snape replied, noting the fear in Harry's eyes. "They are trained to handle these patients. If anything were to happen, they would be able to stop it."

After a moment's indecision, Harry reluctantly pulled his wand from his sleeve and set it next to Snape's.

The witch smiled a little too brightly at him, shooting an avid glance at his scar as she opened up the doors to the ward. Harry hunched his shoulders, feeling exposed.

"If you want to turn back at any time, you can," Snape said quietly as they entered. The doors swung closed behind them. "You don't have to go through with this."

Harry acknowledged the offer with a nod, but gave no reply as one of the guards stationed inside the door approached them. What was there to say? He felt as though he were watching from outside himself as they were led down a long, sterile corridor to a heavy wooden door. The guard stationed himself at the threshold and turned the latch. The door opened onto a small, cheerless beige room. A narrow window, set high on the wall and covered by iron bars, leaked thin late afternoon light across a table and two chairs. In one of them, Lockhart waited.

Harry slowly made his way inside and sat down across from the man from his nightmares. His mind buzzed with a strange numbness. Lockhart looked so… normal. It was disturbing. A hand touched his shoulder and he looked up to find his professor standing next to him. Snape gave his shoulder a squeeze and then stepped back. Something inside Harry relaxed minutely, and suddenly he was back inside his own head. He could do this. He had to do this.

"Do… do you know who I am?" he asked with a little bit of a stutter.

"Of course! You're Harry Potter," Lockhart replied eagerly. "I read all about you in the papers!"

"Right… but do you know me other than from the papers?"

"Should I?"

Harry let out a little sigh. "No, I suppose not..." He glanced at Snape, then swallowed hard. "You… you were my teacher."

"Really?" Lockhart said, reaching out as though to take Harry's hand.

Snape took a step forward as Harry jerked away.

"No touching!" the guard snapped.

Lockhart obediently drew his hands back. "I bet you were my top student," he said, staring at Harry with the same smile Snape had seen inside the boy's mind.

"I… I came… I..." There was so much Harry needed to say, but he couldn't find the words. "...you hurt me… and I… I..."

"I could never hurt you," Lockhart interrupted, his voice chillingly gentle.

"You… you did… and… and...I..." But Harry was cut off once again, his throat squeezing shut at the feel of a foot sliding up the inside of his leg. A broken whimper found its way from the back of his throat as the toes flexed against the crotch of his trousers.

An instant later Snape violently yanked the chair backwards and the invasive press of the foot vanished. Relief warred with shame and Harry couldn't hold back the tears that began to fall. He felt frozen in place, as helpless as when Lockhart's poison had paralyzed him.

"This visit is over!" Snape barked. "Take him out of here!" The guard, no more immune to the force of Snape's looming personality than anyone else, quickly hauled Lockhart to his feet and escorted him from the room.

Once the man was gone, Snape was by Harry's side within seconds.

Harry took a few deep breaths to gather himself before he spoke. "What… what is it about me?" he cried.

"It has nothing to do with you. It's all about him," Snape replied as he took Harry by the arm and pulled him from the chair. "Let's get you out of here."

He led Harry to the door, brooding inwardly. Perhaps Dumbledore had been right; perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all.


	18. The Talk

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Eighteen- The Talk

Severus and Harry sat in a secluded booth at the back of the Three Broomsticks. Thankfully for Harry the restaurant wasn't crowded, just a few regulars and an old wizard sleeping off one too many firewhiskeys in the corner. Soft music drifted from a charmed radio behind the bar tuned to the WWN. The dulcet tones of Celestina Warbek seemed to calm Harry to a degree.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

Harry was brought out of his thoughts by the professor's question. "I don't know." He gave a small shrug. "I don't even know what I was looking for."

Snape opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it as the waitress arrived with their dinner, two generous portions of shepherd's pie with mushy peas and cauliflower cheese.

"Can I get you two anything else?" she asked cheerfully as she set the plates down along with the two mugs of butterbeer. Harry could tell his professor wasn't a fan of her perky demeanor.

"No, that will be all," Snape said dismissively, turning pointedly back to Harry until she gave up and walked off.

Harry stared bitterly at the meal in front of him, then scrunched his nose up and pushed his plate away, wondering why had Snape even bothered to order it.

"What's wrong with the food?"

"You know I can't..." Harry glared sullenly down at the table.

"You had no problems this morning."

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"The oatmeal and fruit, not to mention the potion you took without a second thought," Snape explained.

"... I… I wasn't thinking..." Harry muttered evasively, reflecting back on the earlier meal. He wasn't ready to admit that he was actually beginning to trust his Potions professor.

Snape had vaguely hoped that an array of comfort foods might tempt the boy to cast caution to the wind a second time, but decided to let the subject drop. It wasn't the reason he brought him here today.

"I wanted to talk to you about your lying," he started off.

"What! I haven't been lying!" Harry exclaimed, caught off guard by the sudden change of topic and suddenly worried that this would be a conversation worthy of Umbridge.

"Letting people believe you want to become an Auror, or that you like playing quidditch? Those sounds like lies to me," Snape retorted.

"...not lies… fibs..." Harry muttered, avoiding his eyes.

"What's the difference?"

Harry gave a small shrug, not knowing the answer. "It's just easier to let people believe what they want."

"It's not healthy to live a double life." The boy glanced sharply up at the man across from him. He knew Snape spoke from experience. "If you keep it up you are not going to be happy with where you end up."

Harry looked away, but stayed quiet and listened, considering what his professor was saying more seriously than he ever would have just days ago.

"Were you aware that Madame Pomfrey offers an apprenticeship to young wizards intent on entering the field of mediwizardry?"

He blinked in surprise and shook his head. He'd never thought of the matron in the capacity of a teacher before.

"It is a rather selective opportunity," Snape continued. "Her student works in the hospital wing a few times a week, assisting her in her duties and learning all that becoming an Healer entails. I happen to know that the apprenticeship has remained open this year. If you like, I can talk to her about giving it to you," he offered.

"Really?" Harry asked, shocked.

Snape gave a small nod. "It won't be easy, but with your skill set I believe you would do fine."

Harry paused for a moment, pretty sure that his professor had just paid him a compliment. He had to resist the urge to pinch himself.

"I… yes… yes, I would love to do that!" Harry said, growing excited.

"I will have a word with her then. I also wanted to talk to you about quidditch. I'm not going to make you quit, but I do want you to think about it. If you don't like playing then there is no sense in doing so."

Harry subsided and gave a small nod in understanding, watching forlornly as the professor ate. The food smelled amazing, but turned his stomach at the same time. Would anything ever be simple again?

"Sir… Lockhart… why... why is it me?" Harry asked, uncertain he'd asked the question right until Snape glanced up at him and sighed.

"We can't be sure that it was just you, Harry. Considering Lockhart's skill with the Memory Charm, he could have done it to other students as well. They just can't remember."

Lucky, Harry thought to himself. He would do anything to go back to not remembering what that man had done to him.

"One… one time he said…" he admitted haltingly, "...he said that I teased him… I… I don't think… I..."

"Harry I want you to listen to me right this instant." Snape spoke harshly, cutting him off, but for once Harry didn't think the professor's quick anger was directed at him. "You did no such thing! He is an adult and you were a child. What he did should have never have happened. It wasn't your fault. You had nothing to do with it. Do you understand me?"

"...yes sir," Harry said softly, looking away.

Snape could tell the boy didn't believe him, but this wasn't the place to get into it.

"Are you going to eat your food?" he asked instead after a few minutes of silence.

Harry shook his head, giving Snape an apologetic look.

Snape let out a small sigh and called for the check. He might as well take the child home. He could tell from his body language that he hadn't been comfortable being here from the moment they sat down.

"Thank you," Harry murmured as the waitress came over to settle up, wondering if Snape knew just how many things he was really thanking him for. Harry himself had lost count.


	19. The Truth Comes Out Part One

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Nineteen- The Truth Comes Out Part One

"So I was thinking that we could go and see Harry before classes start?" Hermione announced as Ron emerged from the stairway to the boy's dorm into the common room. "I have the notes I took yesterday for him," she added.

"Sure." Ron shrugged, not knowing why Hermione added an excuse to see Harry when he was going to agree anyway. "I was thinking about inviting him to Hogsmeade tomorrow. See if we can get him out of the castle," he suggested.

"Oh...," Hermione replied hesitantly. She wasn't sure forcing Harry out was such a good idea. "We can ask, I suppose," she mused as she headed for the door. "Let's just…"

Suddenly she stopped short, the corner of her eye catching the headline of a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet on one of the tables.

"Oh my God!" she shrieked, snatching up the paper in a white-knuckle grip.

"What!" Ron yelled, startled.

Hermione, eyes wide as saucers, slowly turned the paper to show him the front page.

"Oh Merlin..." Ron murmured, devastated, as he absorbed the contents of the article.

…

Harry got up early to find that Snape had already gone for the day. A note left on the table informed him that there were supplies to make breakfast in the kitchen, and that he was expected to eat.

Harry only shrugged as he opened the cupboard. He had served meals for his aunt and uncle nearly all his life, so he was no stranger to cooking.

He took out the eggs along with some mushrooms and peppers for an omelet and was just about to crack the eggs into a bowl when there was a knock on the chamber doors.

Thankfully Harry felt no anxiety since Snape put in a one way peephole that couldn't be seen from the other side.

He quietly made his way over to look through the hole, and a small smile spread across his face to find his two best friends on the other side.

"Hey guys," he said a bit awkwardly as he opened the door, moving aside to let them enter and closing it behind them.

"So...how are you doing this morning?" Hermione asked uncertainty. Had Harry read the paper this morning?

"Oh… did… did Professor Snape tell you about yesterday?" Harry asked worriedly.

"What? no...what happened yesterday?" Ron asked, though from what he'd read in the paper, he could guess.

"Nothing!" Harry said with a shake of his head. "It's not important… but I'm fine," he added, forcing a small smile.

Hermione frowned. She didn't know what to do. Obviously he hadn't seen the morning paper, or he'd never be able to claim he felt "fine". And the idea of being the one to wipe that tentative smile off his face made her insides squirm. Would it be better to allow him to find out for himself?. Would he even want them there when he found out?

No, that was her nerves talking and she knew it. Better that he have it from his friends than someone else.

"Harry…" she said. His face fell slightly at her grave tone. It fell further as she held out her crumpled copy of the Prophet to him.

"What's this?" Harry asked as he unfolded it to the front page.

"The Boy Who Lived Raped"

"Sightings of Harry James Potter entering 's hospital yesterday have been corroborated, but further investigation has revealed that the purpose of the visit was something far more sinister than a hex gone wrong or a mere case of Dragon Pox. The purpose of his visit was to meet with none other than Gilderoy Lockhart, famed author, adventurer and former professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. During the visit, reliable sources within the hospital reported witnessing an emotional exchange between the young wizard and his one-time Defense teacher.

"During the confrontation, Potter accused Lockhart of multiple instances of sexual abuse during his second year at Hogwarts. Potter, only twelve at the time, claimed the crime had been covered up using a Memory Charm, which only recently wore off.

"Of course, as Lockhart has himself lost his memory as a result of a misfired Memory Charm, we have no word but Potter's that the incident occurred as reported. Some have speculated that the incident is nothing more than a fabrication to garner attention for the troubled teen, who has a history of acting out for publicity. Only last year he snuck his name into the Goblet of Fire to gain the glory of winning the Triwizard Tournament (during which another Hogwarts student, Cedric Dighory, lost his life under suspicious circumstances). Rumor even has it that perhaps it was not Lockhart, but Potter himself who cast the Memory Charm that broke Lockhart's mind.

"Of course, none of this can be substantiated at this time - only Harry Potter knows the truth for certain..."

The article went on, but Harry couldn't bear to read any more. He felt his heart stop as his breath got caught in his throat. This was on the front page of the morning paper. By the end of the day everyone in the school, along with the whole magical community of Britain, would know what had happened to him. And there wasn't anything he could do about it.

He would no longer be Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, but Harry Potter, the Boy Who Was Raped. The boy that couldn't protect himself. The boy that would have to spend the rest of his life I'm hiding.

After all, how could he be expected to defeat Voldermort when he couldn't even protect himself?

Suddenly the walls of the chamber seemed to close, as though they would fall in around him. His vision narrowed to a distant pinpoint, and he couldn't seem to get enough air.

"Harry?" Hermione exclaimed in a panic when she saw that Harry was hyperventilating.

It was Ron who saved the day. He quickly led Harry to the couch,made him sit, and pushed his shoulders down until his head was between his knees, just as he'd seen his mom do this with his brother Percy when he'd once received less than perfect marks on a report card.

"Harry you need to take some deep breaths… in… and… out… in… and… out..." Ron spoke, performing the actions himself so Harry would be able to copy him.

Harry only shook his head, pushing Ron's hands away. He couldn't do it, couldn't get any air into his lungs! It felt like someone was holding a pillow over his face.

And there was a small part of him that hoped he wouldn't get anymore air, that he would die. That way he wouldn't have to deal with what was to come. He wouldn't have to deal with the stars and the whispers as he walked past people in the corridors or in the streets. He wouldn't have to wonder what they were thinking about him, about how weak he was...

"What do we do?" Hermione cried just as Professor Snape came barging into his chambers and straight over to Harry.


	20. The Truth Comes Out Part Two

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty- The Truth Comes Out Part Two

Severus rose earlier than normal that morning, wanting to talk to Poppy about the apprenticeship program before his first class of the day. He peeked in on a still sleeping Harry and left a note instructing him to eat breakfast before setting off for the infirmary.

The corridors of the castle were quiet with many students still in their dormitories. The Ravenclaw quidditch team was out for early morning practice on the pitch, and Hagrid could be seen moving around outside his hut in the distance. Otherwise the grounds and corridors were deserted. But Poppy had always been a morning person.

"Severus!" she smiled brightly as he swept into the hospital wing. "This is a nice surprise. I wasn't expecting you for a few more days. Finished with the potions I requested already?"

"No, I'm not here about the potions," Severus replied. "I wanted to talk to you about your apprenticeship program."

"Oh! Do you have a candidate in mind?" she questioned eagerly. There had been so little interest this year that she'd been sure the spot would go unfilled, which had been a bitter disappointment. Poppy loved having an apprentice. An extra set of hands meant less day to day grunt work for her. And of course there was the reward of shaping a young mind and all that, but the fact remained that she wasn't as young as she used to be. "One of your Slytherins, perhaps?"

"No, it's Harry."

"Harry?" Poppy said skeptically. "I thought he wanted to become an Auror?"

Severus pursed his lips. "Has the boy ever actually told you so?"

Poppy frowned thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, no. But you know how you hear things around the school."

"Really, Poppy? Gossip?"

"I would hardly call it gossip," she sniffed. "So the boy wants to become a healer then?"

"He has the passion for it, and his potions grades are good enough. I do believe with the right training he could become a great healer."

Severus scowled at the small knowing smirk that formed on Poppy's face when the compliment slipped out. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and snatched up the morning copy of the Prophet from her desk, untying and flipping it open to the front page.

"Well, the spot is open," Poppy mused smugly. She retrieved her wand to conjure the proper forms, gleeful visions of free labor dancing in her head. "If Harry is serious about this then I would love to have him on board. The only thing that concerns me is..."

"I have to go," Severus interrupted, rushing out the door before the startled witch had a chance to reply.

"What in the world…" Poppy wondered, picking up the discarded copy of the Prophet. Her eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, Merlin, no…"

As Severus made his way back to his chambers he noticed students already passing around copies of the Prophet and whispering to each other. By the time everyone made it to the Great Hall for breakfast the whole school would know.

He arrived at his chambers in record time, only to find he was too late. Harry sat hunched on the couch between his useless friends in the throes of a full blown panic attack.

"Move!" he demanded, brushing the two of them aside to maneuver himself behind Harry as he had once before, pressing the boy's back up against his chest so Harry would be able to feel his breathing. "Breathe with me, Harry," he said with a calm he did not feel. "In through the nose, out through the mouth..."

"No...no..." Harry whimpered once he was able to get enough air to speak.

"Harry..." Hermione started, but stopped short when she saw the stern look that her Professor shot her.

"It's alright, just keep breathing." Severus spoke soothingly as he continued to breathe deeply himself. "It will pass."

"No… no, please… just let… me die!" Harry cried. "I… don't… want… to live!"

"You don't mean that, mate," Ron said uncertainly, placing a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder as she fought tears.

"I do! Don't… you see? I… I can't… face… any... more! I… can never… face… anyone… ever again! ...my life… is… OVER!"

"Harry…" Hermione choked pleadingly. "Don't say such…"

"No…" The hunted look on Harry's face became distant, his voice between gasps flat, numb, lifeless, even as he began to struggle against Snape's hold. "Let… me die... or… I'll just… have to… do it… myself! …I will… I have to… no other… way…!"

Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry of despair. Unable to contain herself, she turned and ran out of the chambers. Ron lingered a moment longer, looking torn, then muttered a curse under his breath.

"Take care of him!" he told Snape before dashing out after her, the chamber door slamming behind him

It was a testament to the depth of Severus's concern that he didn't even bat an eye at being ordered around by a student.

"Harry, just take some deep breaths," he said softly, dismissing the other two Gryffindors entirely.

"No… stop… let go!" Harry cried as he continued to fight.

Severus clenched his jaw, twisting as Harry kicked and elbowed him ineffectually in the ribs, still gasping raggedy. This wasn't working. The boy wasn't going to calm down on his own.

"Cinsy!" The elf popped in with a squeak of fright, tugging her ears as she took in the sight of the two struggling wizards. "Bring a vial of Calming Draught from my laboratory! Quickly!"

Within seconds Cinsy was back, handing the potion over to her master.

"Thank you," Severus quickly said before flicking the stopper out with his thumb and tipping the bottle against the boy's lips.

Harry gagged as the potion seeped into his mouth, trying to spit it out, but between his body's desperate gasps and Snape's careful but immovable grip on his jaw, several trickles of the liquid dribbled down his throat. Panic flared as his mind flashed between the overwhelming shame of his present reality and horrific memories of paralysis and violation. With a burst of energy born of sheer terror, he twisted out of Snape's restraining grip, landing a glancing blow across the professor's jaw in his desperation to get away. Snape fell back against the cushions with a grunt and reached for his wand, a spell ready on his tongue, but there was no need.

"No, no, no…" Harry cried as his knees seemed to turn to water and buckled under him. Snape was there in an instant, catching him before he could hit the floor. "Please, no…"

"Harry, I'm not going to do anything to you. I'm just going to lay you down on the couch and then I will step away," Severus explained, gently hoisting the boy in his arms and laying him on the couch before stepping back. "You can still move Harry, you're alright. Continue taking deep breaths."

Harry closed his eyes against bitter tears, his fingers digging fiercely into the cushion underneath him as he gave in and concentrated on breathing. After the fifth breath, the rise of his chest became more even and his grip on the cushion loosened.

Rubbing ardently at the bruise rising on his jaw, Severus stepped forward and checked the boy's pules; the potion shouldn't have put him to sleep. Finding it to be slow but steady he took a deep breath himself and tried to figure out his next move.

First he was going to find the person who went to the papers and most likely do something that would land him in Azkaban. This was the last thing Harry needed. They had been getting somewhere at last, but not only were they back to square one, now the boy said he wanted to die. Worse, he had threatened to do it. Worse still, Severus believed him. Even if it was said in the heat of the moment, Severus was no stranger to the power of such dark thoughts. Even if he were not obligated as a Hogwarts professor to take the statement seriously, he'd be a fool not to recognize the danger of ignoring it.

"Watch over him, Cinsy," he wearily instructed the wide-eyed elf. "Please."

Groaning at the whole new dimensions of difficulty that a suicidal Harry Potter was sure to bring to all their lives, Severus left the child with the elf to sleep in peace while he could and trudged to his lab to find something for his aching jaw.


	21. Two Friends Come Together

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty One- Two Friends Come Together

Hermione and Ron sat side-by-side atop the Astronomy Tower, having shamelessly decided that skipping class was the only reasonable course of action. Hermione didn't even care what she might be missing; she was too upset to worry about lessons or note-taking or the possibility of detention.

"...do you think he meant it?" she asked after nearly an hour of silence between them. "That he would try to… kill himself?" The words were almost too hard to say.

"I don't know," Ron replied softly. "I...I don't want to think about it."

"I know… I can't imagine that the Harry we know would try something like that… but at the same time..."

"He's not the same Harry we knew," Ron finished her thought. "I mean, he'll always be Harry… but going through something like that… it's bound to change a bloke…"

"I just want to make it better… but this can't just get better. There's no spell or potion… there's no book that can fix this." Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes. "So how do we help?"

"I don't think we can help. Not really. We can be there for Harry, but he's the one that has to do the fighting."

"Why would he even go to see Lockhart?" she demanded hotly. Somehow it was easier to be angry; it masked the helplessness and the pain. "What was he hoping for?"

"Closure, perhaps?" Ron replied after a moment's thought. "Maybe it's like when you go and visit someone's grave? He was looking for closure."

"Harry didn't have a loved one die! He was… it was stupid idea!" she yelled. Wild little sparks of stray magic popped and sizzles in the air around her. Ron remained wisely silent, letting her work through her emotions.

"...I expect mom will be coming to Hogwarts once she reads the paper," he said at length, trying to ease the tension. His mom thought of Harry as one of her sons, just as he thought of Harry as a brother. There wasn't a chance in hell she'd stay away. "I expect Sirius will as well." A morbid thought occurred to him. "...do… do you think You-Know-Who reads the papers?"

Hermione snorted indelicately at the thought of Voldermort sitting down with a cup of coffee, reading the morning paper. "I honestly don't know."

They lapsed into a comfortable, if melancholy silence, absorbed in their own thoughts until Ron chanced to glance down at the grounds. A disgusted expression flicked across his face.

"Look at him down there," he muttered under his breath. "I bet he's loving this."

Hermione peered over the edge of the tower to see Malfoy and his two goons traipsing across the lawn towards the greenhouses on their way to Herbology. "Probably so." Her nose scrunched up as though she smelled something foul. "But what can he do to make this worse?"

"I wouldn't put it past him to think of something," Ron muttered.

"As long as Harry is safe in Professor Snape's chambers, Malfoy can't get to him." And Harry won't be able to try anything dangerous, Hermione thought to herself.

"I still don't like the fact that he knows...that anyone knows. This shouldn't have happened." Ron clenched his fists, indulging in his own anger. "Healers take an oath that magically binds them from talking about stuff like that!"

"Perhaps it wasn't a Healer that let out the information..." Hermione suggested, then shrugged. "It doesn't matter anymore, it's done."

Ron only nodded in silence. It was true, it wasn't like the papers could take it back. "So what can we do...?"

"It's just like you said," Hermione sighed, worrying at the sleeve of her robes. "We be there for Harry."

As she spoke, an owl flew into the tower, landing at her feet with a letter in its beak.

"Who do you suppose that's from?" Ron asked as Hermione took the letter from the owl.

"Hagrid," she answered as she read the messy handwriting. "He wants us to stop by today," she said with a frown.

It didn't take much to figure out why Hagrid wanted to talk to them. They glanced uneasily at each other.

"We can blow it off..." Ron offered.

Hermione shook her head. "We can't do that to Hagrid. Besides, I would much rather be there then in class."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," Ron joked.

Hermione offered him a small smile, standing and stretching. "Let's go before I change my mind."


	22. Two Friends Come Together

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty One- Two Friends Come Together

Hermione and Ron sat side-by-side atop the Astronomy Tower, having shamelessly decided that skipping class was the only reasonable course of action. Hermione didn't even care what she might be missing; she was too upset to worry about lessons or note-taking or the possibility of detention.

"...do you think he meant it?" she asked after nearly an hour of silence between them. "That he would try to… kill himself?" The words were almost too hard to say.

"I don't know," Ron replied softly. "I...I don't want to think about it."

"I know… I can't imagine that the Harry we know would try something like that… but at the same time..."

"He's not the same Harry we knew," Ron finished her thought. "I mean, he'll always be Harry… but going through something like that… it's bound to change a bloke…"

"I just want to make it better… but this can't just get better. There's no spell or potion… there's no book that can fix this." Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes. "So how do we help?"

"I don't think we can help. Not really. We can be there for Harry, but he's the one that has to do the fighting."

"Why would he even go to see Lockhart?" she demanded hotly. Somehow it was easier to be angry; it masked the helplessness and the pain. "What was he hoping for?"

"Closure, perhaps?" Ron replied after a moment's thought. "Maybe it's like when you go and visit someone's grave? He was looking for closure."

"Harry didn't have a loved one die! He was… it was stupid idea!" she yelled. Wild little sparks of stray magic popped and sizzles in the air around her. Ron remained wisely silent, letting her work through her emotions.

"...I expect mom will be coming to Hogwarts once she reads the paper," he said at length, trying to ease the tension. His mom thought of Harry as one of her sons, just as he thought of Harry as a brother. There wasn't a chance in hell she'd stay away. "I expect Sirius will as well." A morbid thought occurred to him. "...do… do you think You-Know-Who reads the papers?"

Hermione snorted indelicately at the thought of Voldermort sitting down with a cup of coffee, reading the morning paper. "I honestly don't know."

They lapsed into a comfortable, if melancholy silence, absorbed in their own thoughts until Ron chanced to glance down at the grounds. A disgusted expression flicked across his face.

"Look at him down there," he muttered under his breath. "I bet he's loving this."

Hermione peered over the edge of the tower to see Malfoy and his two goons traipsing across the lawn towards the greenhouses on their way to Herbology. "Probably so." Her nose scrunched up as though she smelled something foul. "But what can he do to make this worse?"

"I wouldn't put it past him to think of something," Ron muttered.

"As long as Harry is safe in Professor Snape's chambers, Malfoy can't get to him." And Harry won't be able to try anything dangerous, Hermione thought to herself.

"I still don't like the fact that he knows...that anyone knows. This shouldn't have happened." Ron clenched his fists, indulging in his own anger. "Healers take an oath that magically binds them from talking about stuff like that!"

"Perhaps it wasn't a Healer that let out the information..." Hermione suggested, then shrugged. "It doesn't matter anymore, it's done."

Ron only nodded in silence. It was true, it wasn't like the papers could take it back. "So what can we do...?"

"It's just like you said," Hermione sighed, worrying at the sleeve of her robes. "We be there for Harry."

As she spoke, an owl flew into the tower, landing at her feet with a letter in its beak.

"Who do you suppose that's from?" Ron asked as Hermione took the letter from the owl.

"Hagrid," she answered as she read the messy handwriting. "He wants us to stop by today," she said with a frown.

It didn't take much to figure out why Hagrid wanted to talk to them. They glanced uneasily at each other.

"We can blow it off..." Ron offered.

Hermione shook her head. "We can't do that to Hagrid. Besides, I would much rather be there then in class."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," Ron joked.

Hermione offered him a small smile, standing and stretching. "Let's go before I change my mind."


	23. Listen to Me

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty Two - Listen to Me

"It's about time!" Severus grumbled, still rubbing his jaw as Minerva came through the floo.

"Severus, you called ten minutes ago," Minerva explained, exasperated. "I had to get someone to take over my class."

Severus ignored her. "I expect you've seen the papers?"

"Yes I did," she sighed sadly. "The poor dear."

"Don't do that!" Severus snapped. "The last thing the boy needs is your pity."

Minerva shot him a withering look. "Well, what does he need? I assume he's why you called for me?"

"I need you to watch him until I get back. Don't," he emphasized with a hard look of his own," take your eyes off him. He… threatened to take his own life."

"He what!" Minerva gasped, her Scottish brogue thickening with shock. "He said that? Merlin's bloody beard… are you… quite sure he meant it? No doubt he's upset… but after everything he's survived so far, I never would have thought..."

"Honestly… I don't know. But I don't want to take the chance of leaving him alone."

They turned to stare worriedly at the boy in question, still asleep on the couch with a deep frown still on his face despite the potion. With a sigh, Severus stepped to his side.

"Harry?" he said softly as he gently shook him awake, ignoring Minerva's penetrating gaze. The boy groaned unhappily and his eyes cracked open. "I have to step out for a while, but Professor McGonagall has come to visit with you while I'm gone."

"Take the memories away" Harry murmured, still waking up from the potion's effects. His head felt fuzzy, his senses distant, as though someone had shoved cotton into his ears while he was sleeping.

"I've already told you why I can't do that. The damage that could be done..."

"I don't care," Harry interrupted. "I don't want to remember, I don't care about the aftermath."

Severus let out a long breath. "Even if I was willing to take the risk, it won't change what is in the papers."

"Then use the time turner… make it so it never happened," Harry said. The false peace of the potion was slowly evaporating, and he couldn't bear the thought of returning to the claustrophobic crush of his new reality. All he wanted was for these memories to be gone, no matter what it took.

But Snape was already shaking his head. "It's too far back."

"Then go back to when you broke down the wall in my mind and make it so you never uncovered the memory," Harry said, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

"I can't -"

"You mean you won't!" Harry snapped before turning away to bury his face in the couch cushions. "Just leave me alone," came his muffled mutter.

Severus frowned but allowed Harry to have his space. Backing away, he turned towards the floo, but was stopped short by Minerva's hand on his arm.

"And where are you off to?"

Severus considered lying, but found he didn't want to. "To . To see who opened their big mouth."

A stern, measuring look passed over her features, pressing her mouth into a thin line, and for an instant he thought the deputy headmistress would forbid him. But after a moment, her hand dropped away from his sleeve.

"Give'em one from me."

Severus said nothing, only gave her one last look before stepping through the floo.

…

Minerva stood there for a moment, hesitant, before sitting down on the edge of the coffee table. She refrained from reaching out and touching the boy, not wanting to spook him. She couldn't imagine how hard this was on him, or his friends. After the events of last year… well, she'd hoped that this year would be better.

"Harry," she said gently.

"Don't call me that!" Harry snapped. "We aren't friends! You're just my professor."

Minerva narrowed her eyes at the boy's back. "Now you listen here, Harry Potter!" she snapped in her best professor voice.

.

Harry turned his head to look at her for the first time since she had entered the chamber, eyes wide with surprise. She reckoned nobody had spoken to him so sternly since this whole sad business began.

"I know you are hurting, but that doesn't give you the right to speak to me like that. You may not want to believe it but I care for you very much… everyone does."

Harry let out a long breath before turning back to face the couch. "Not enough to stop it."

"If I had known what was going on, I would have done more than stopped it!" she replied fiercely, the accusation cutting deep. "If any of the professors had any inkling, there wouldn't have been enough left of him to feed to the dementors!"

Minerva meant it too. This wasn't merely a matter of moral outrage. It was personal. The bastard had done something so utterly reprehensible to one of her students right under her nose. It shouldn't have been possible. Prospective professors were interviewed and magically screened before they were considered for employment at Hogwarts. It baffled her that someone like Lockhart could have slipped through the cracks. But more than that… Minerva felt she somehow should have known.

"It... should have never had happened..."

"...I just want to be left alone," Harry whispered after a long beat of silence.

"You know I can't do that." Minerva sighed and rose, brandishing her wand in a wordless summoning charm. "I'll be at the table marking papers. If you need anything all you have to do is ask." A flurry of student essays came jostling under the door to the chamber, fluttering into a neat stack on the table as she made her way into the kitchen.

Harry laid on the couch listening to the scribble of her quill, finding the sound soothing as he drifted back to sleep.


	24. Visit With Hagrid

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty Three - Visit With Hagrid

Hermione tapped her fingernail on the mug cradled in her palms. The quiet ting-ting-ting echoed through the small hut. Neither she nor Ron had spoken a word since Hagrid opened the door. The half-giant didn't even ask why they were out of class. He just stepped aside and allowed the two to enter. Silence had reigned ever since.

Tea was prepared and distributed in the smallest mugs Hagrid could find, then he sat back, intending to allow the two Gryffindors to talk in their own time. But as the minutes ticked by he grew impatient. He wanted...no, he needed to know.

"Where's 'Arry?"

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other before Hermione spoke.

"He's with Professor Snape, in his chambers. We saw him this morning."

"And ...how is he?" Hagrid asked.

Hermione looked at Ron again, wondering if it was their place to talk about what had happened that morning. But then, Hagrid was sure to find out sooner or later…

"Not so well… Harry… he..." Hermione struggled to find the words. "Harry… threatened to take his own life this morning." She looked down at her tea, which had grown cold.

A wave of shock washed over Hagrid, but he did his best to hold it back. His first reaction upon reading the story in the Prophet this morning had been disbelief, then outrage, then grief. Now on top of that he was afraid for Harry's safety and sickened to think how much he must still be suffering. Even so, he held himself in check. Harry was safe with Professor Snape, and there wasn't much Hagrid could do for him now. But maybe there was something he could do for the two badly shaken Gryffindors in front of him.

"Ya know, not many people know this, but I'm the one that got Harry out of that house… out of Godric's Hollow... that Halloween night," he began. Ron and Hermione looked up at him, still subdued, but he had their attention.

"The little thing must have been crying for hours by the time I got to him. He was cold and wet… and Lily...'' Hagrid choked up a little, "...she… was laid out on the floor right in front of his crib."

"Oh my god," Hermione whispered. She had always wondered what happened that night but never expected to hear the story. She glanced at Ron again and they shared a forlorn look. How much more could their friend be expected to endure?

"I remember when I picked him up, he was no bigger than a bowtruckle in my hands. I changed him, got him into a warm blanket, cleaned up the blood… you know, from the cut," Hagrid gestured meaningfully towards his forehead, then paused for a moment as he relived that night in his mind. "He'd quieted down by the time I got him bundled up and strapped to my chest. Waved an angry little fist at me when I revved up my bike, but when we took off, I remember he laughed just a little. Natural born flyer, even then." Hagrid couldn't help but to smile. "He fell asleep not long after."

"Why… why are you telling us this?" Hermione asked.

"Because that night I knew that Harry wasn't going to have an easy life… but I also learned that he's a fighter, and a stubborn one at that!" Hagrid said with a chuckle. "That boy has faced down more death and hardship than most men do in a whole lifetime. And he still knows how to laugh. That's how I know, even though things may seem hopeless at the moment, Harry is going to make it though."

A thoughtful silence descended as he sat back and popped a rock cake in his mouth; still heavy, but not the oppressive air of misery that had pervaded the hut when they pair had arrived.

"...Harry is pretty stubborn," Ron chimed in after a minute.

This time Hermione smiled. "Yeah..." she agreed fondly as she thought about her friend. "I just wish there was something we could do..."

"Just keep on doing what you've been doing these past four years." Hagrid took Hermione's hand, and gave Ron a solemn nod. "Be there for 'Arry. You do that and everything else will work itself out."


	25. All he Wants

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty Four- All he Wants

Severus was not a happy man. He had spent the last three hours interrogating everyone from healers to security to the janitor he'd spotted spelling a mop over the floor at the far end of the corridor during Harry and his visit to the St. Mungo's psychiatric ward. So far, he'd come up empty handed. After years of spying, not to mention teaching hundreds of rule-breaking magical children, he knew when people were lying to him; even without Legilimency, it was clear in their voice, their eyes, their body language.

So he was dismally confident that they were all telling the truth.

For a moment he was almost ready to suspect that Lockhart might be the one behind it, before realizing that was impossible.

He let out a long sigh as he signed himself out, slashing his name across the ledger while trying not to scowl too viciously at the witch behind the reception desk. The combination of her bland smile and sharp-set eyes rubbed him the wrong way. No wonder she'd made Harry so obviously uncomfortable. Thinking of Harry twisted his gut. He had been away too long. He turned to leave, but stopped short to look again at the witch behind the desk.

"You…"

"Sir?"

"You don't have to take a vow, do you?" he sneered, a slow but certain suspicion dawning.

"I… I'm not a Healer, so..." the witch stuttered a little, swallowing as though her mouth had gone dry.

"That would be a no then… and from your mannerisms, I'd guess you are an animagus." He took a step closer, leaning over the desk. "Something small..."

"W-What! I'm not..."

"Don't lie to me!" Severus snapped. The witch glanced furtively to the right before speaking, a noticeable tell. Here at last was his culprit. "How could you? To a child! Do you have any idea what you've done!"

"I...I don't know what you are talking about sir," the witch said, her voice wavering uncertainty before swelling with a confidence that only pissed him off more. "I think you should leave now. If you don't I will have to call security!"

"You don't care at all do you?" Severus narrowed his eyes, his Slytherin instincts kicking in. "To think," he enunciated loudly in his best classroom voice, "that anyone would be so quick to betray the Boy Who Lived!"

The words carried, echoing from the hard tile and bare walls of the ward. From the corner of his eye, he saw healers, patients and visitors pausing in their steps, all turning to glance in the direction of the reception desk. Smirking inwardly, he raised his voice further.

"It's enough to make one wonder where your loyalties truly lie!" he practically yelled. "Who would do something that calculating and cruel to Harry Potter, other than a Death Eater!"

The witch's face paled as gasps and furtive whispers rose around them from all corners. A crowd was beginning to gather, and she shook her head vehemently, staring frantically around for an ally. She was met with nothing but hostile sideways glances and outright glares of suspicion.

Severus was fairly certain she wasn't actually a follower of the Dark Lord, but the accusation alone would be more than enough. The witch knew it too, and she was visibly shaking now, her skin taking on a greenish cast as though she might be sick. It was an enormously satisfying sight. He noticed her hand slip under the desk, no doubt to trigger a silent security alarm, but he was on a roll and finally venting his frustration on a worthy target felt too good to stop now.

"The pain that you inflicted on that poor boy! And for what? What did you get in return? What were you promised in return for betraying the savior of the Wizarding world!"

Severus kept up his melodramatic tirade at the woman even as he was Leg-Locked and dragged out by two square-jawed security wizards, who tossed him unceremoniously into the street without a word or backward glance. But the last thing he saw as the doors closed behind them, sealing him out, was a crowd of scowling witches and wizards converging on the wild-eyed, cowering reception witch.

With a dark smirk, Severus cast a wandless finite incantatem, freeing his legs. He was glad he'd decided not to bring his wand, otherwise he might have lost control and started throwing curses. This punishment was far more appropriate for a rumormonger like her. Let her see how it felt to be under that kind of scrutiny! His only regret was that since she wasn't subject to the Healer's vow, she couldn't be tracked down and tormented further. He still felt she'd gotten off too light.

Because in truth, anyone was allowed to go to the papers with whatever they wanted, and there was nothing more substantial he could do about it. The cat was out of the bag, and there was nothing he could do for the boy other than avenge his shattered dignity.

Severus paused for a moment as he brushed himself off. When did he start to care about Harry so much? This wasn't like him. Up to now he'd acted for the sake of carrying out Lily's dying wish to protect her child. It had never been for the child himself. When had that changed? What was happening to him? The thought that the boy might be changing him in ways he couldn't predict scared him no end.

Back in Severus's chambers, Minerva had just finished marking her papers when she noticed the time.

"Harry, would you like something for lunch?" she asked softly.

Harry stayed silent, debating whether he wanted to talk to her, or to anyone ever again, then closed his eyes and did his best not to give himself away.

"Harry?" Minerva asked, walking over to find that the boy was still asleep.

A small smile rearranged the lines on her stern face. She took the quilt draped over the back of the couch and spread it over him, pausing to smooth his hair a little. She gently took off his glasses, folding them on the coffee table within easy reach.

"...you will be alright Harry," she said softly to the sleeping boy, believing she was the only one that could hear. She carded her fingers affectionately through his unruly hair once more before straightening up. "You will get through this."

Harry couldn't help the slender trail of tears that leaked down his cheeks as she retreated quietly to the kitchen, not only at her words but at her touch. The center of his chest ached hollowly. He couldn't remember a time someone had comforted him that way.

While he'd found friendship and acceptance here at Hogwarts, it would never make up for what he'd missed as a child. His aunt and uncle were cold and condescending, his cousin hateful. They never showed him love. He'd never gotten hugs, bedtime stories, photos on the mantle, the everyday warmth of being wanted or protected. All he'd had was a small cupboard to call his own.

Right now he would do anything to be safe in his cupboard. No matter what was going on outside, his cupboard kept him safe.

All he wanted was to feel safe again.


	26. Closely Bonded

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty Five- Closely Bonded

The clock struck four in the morning as Harry read the same paragraph for what must have been the hundredth time. After Severus had gone to bed around midnight, he'd convinced Cinsy to bring him a copy of the Daily Prophet, and in the hours since he had obsessed over every word written against him.

"Sightings of Harry James Potter entering 's hospital… an emotional exchange between the young wizard and his one-time Defense teacher... multiple instances of sexual abuse… only twelve at the time… no word but Potter's that the incident occurred… nothing more than a fabrication to garner attention... history of acting out for publicity… none of this can be substantiated… only Harry Potter knows the truth for certain…"

He read it over and over again, unable to decide which was worse - people knowing what really happened, or people choosing to believe he made it all up in some sick ploy for attention. Either way he was nothing but a joke. No one even cared what happened to him. And why would they? All anyone saw in him was the Boy Who Lived, but no one believed him about Voldemort, so what did it matter to anyone if he lived or died?

Harry groaned, a low, wounded noise, the paper crumpling as his fists tightened and his arms curled reflexively around his middle. He'd never felt this kind of pain before and it wasn't just the hideous memories of Lockhart or what was in the papers. It was McGonagall's kindness. He could still feel her running her fingers through his hair just like a mother would to an upset child. Obviously she'd meant well. She couldn't know that the simple, powerful gesture had only served to show him all that he was missing. He'd never been loved, never cared for. He could die tonight and his family wouldn't even care. If anything Vernon would throw a party.

The thoughts circled and circled, spiraling tighter inside him, making him heavy hearted and light headed, leaden and frantic, leaving him shaking weakly as though he might fly apart and sink into darkness all at once.

He was dirty, stained inside and out, a failure, a joke, a nuisance. He was a mess. He was nothing. How could anyone ever love him? How could anything ever be right again?

The answer was obvious and devastating: they couldn't.

Harry swiped at the tears that had fallen down his cheeks before getting up, letting the paper flutter to the floor. His body ached, but his mind rang with a dull, empty clarity. Grabbing some paper and a quill, he sat down at the kitchen table and stared at the blank sheet, searching for words. Small droplets of ink splattered onto the clean white expanse like black tears from his hovering quill. What could he possibly say? Would anyone even care to read it? He leaned his forehead heavily on the heel of his palm as his thoughts raced. Shame, rage, despair, betrayal, tattered shreds of hope tearing at the seams all whipped around and around under an overarching pall of dragging, soul-deep weariness.

"I just want it to stop!" he cried softly to himself.

With a slash of his quill, he wrote the only two words he was sure of anymore: "I'm sorry."

Harry stared blankly at the drying ink. Then he folded the paper, setting the quill on top before rising and making his way over to the bookshelf. He found the volume Snape had pulled and tugged it out. The bookshelf shifted and swung open to reveal the professor's potion lab. Stepping inside, he studied the colorful array of gleaming vials arranged meticulously inside the potion cupboard. There were no labels, so he wasn't sure which would take his pain away, but he figured it hardly mattered; if he just kept swallowing, one of them was bound to do the trick.

So one by one, Harry uncorked the vials and drank the potions, feeling the burn in the back of his throat. Sweat broke out on his brow as the brews hit his stomach, and he downed them more and more quickly as they began to take effect. He was on number eight when he started to feel dizzy. The room swayed sickeningly, and he grew hot and cold in waves. Green smoke began to pour out of his nose, and by number fourteen he could no longer stand on his own. He leaned heavily against the cupboard, his lungs straining as he reached for more vials. The light in the room spun in a nauseating kaleidoscope of unnatural colors. His skin felt too tight as he swallowed number eighteen, breaking out in boils that hardened into flakey yellowish scales. He slumped to the floor, number twenty two in hand, and the only reason it didn't slip from his shaking grip was that his fingers seemed to have developed suction cups. He tipped it up, but it never reached his lips before he toppled sideways. Darkness swallowed him before he hit the cold dungeon floor.

Meanwhile, several floors above, Hermione and Ron were trying to calm Hedwig who had woken half the tower with her screeching.

"It's alright, girl." Hermione soothed, nervously pulling her dressing gown tighter as the owl started to flap her wings frantically.

"What is wrong with her?" Dean shouted over the din.

"I don't know. She just started screaming and acting up," Ron replied with a helpless shrug.

"She'll hurt herself if she keeps this up," Hermione said as Hedwig started to bang on the window with her beak.

"I've never seen an owl act like this," Neville said as he watched from across the room. "What has gotten into her?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "It's Harry..." she said softly.

"What do you mean?" Ron caught her eye, and the look of terrified certainty on her face sent a chill right through him.

"Something is wrong with Harry!''

Without another word she leapt to her feet and ran for the door. Ron followed, still confused, but with a grim weight of dread clenching his gut as they scrambled through the portrait hole and out into the dark.


	27. The Waiting Game

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty SIx- The Waiting Game

Severus woke with a low moan to a frantic pounding on his front door.

"Someone better be dying..." he grumbled.

He donned his robe and flung open his bedroom door, only to stop short at the sight of the bookshelf standing open in the living room. It had been shut fast when he went to bed. A vague sense of unease clenched his gut. Ignoring the relentless thumping and muffled shouts, he approached the opening - and caught sight of Harry laying motionless on the floor.

Dark realization hit him and he bolted forward, sliding to his knees next to the boy, knocking several empty vials out of the way - more than he could count at a glance. He winced inwardly. It was incredibly dangerous to take so many potions at once; they were known to combine in the person's stomach, resulting in extremely unpredictable side effects.

A bezoar was in his hand before he had time to consider, but as the pitted stone passed Harry's lips it cracked, crumbled and dissolved in a cloud of gray dust, overwhelmed by the sheer potency of the chemical magic soaking into his blood.

Horrified, Severus leaned back and took in the extent of the damage. Blisters formed around the boy's mouth and down his neck. Blood leaked out of his ears, nose and eyes. Chunks of his hair were starting to fall out while twitches and convulsions wracked his body. The white foam dripping from the corners of his mouth had gone gray with the powdery remnants of the obliterated bezoar.

Cursing roundly under his breath, Severus quickly waved his wand to allow whoever was still pounding on the door to come inside. He didn't care who it was; he was going to need help.

Hermione bolted in the moment the door opened, only to let out a scream at the sight of the professor rolling Harry onto his side to keep him from choking on the frothing sludge spilling out of his mouth.

"Keep it together, Granger!" Severus ordered. A fit of hysterics right now could prove deadly. "I need you to run to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomphrey that Harry has overdosed on potions."

Hermione swallowed hard, straightened her spine and gave a quick nod before dashing past Ron out the door, tears already streaming down her face.

Poppy would come quickly, of course, but not quickly enough. Even as Severus watched the boy was growing paler, his breathing more shallow. He was reluctant to use even the smallest spells on him, given the amount of magic already in his system, but if he didn't do something it would be too late...

"Weasley!" Severus nodded towards the cabinet as he moved to stabilize Harry's head while he continued to convulse. "Get the plastic tubing from the bottom drawer."

Ron stared at the scene for a long moment before stepping over the scattered bottles and retrieving the requested length of stiff plastic.

Snape quickly snatched it from him. "I need you to hold him still."

"I...I can't..." Ron shook his head, the blood draining from his face.

Without missing a beat, Severus reached up and grabbed the boy by the collar, jerking him down to look him hard in the eye. "If you don't, he will die," he said bluntly. He didn't have time to sugar coat it. Harry didn't have time.

Ron clenched his jaw and gave a shaky nod as he dropped to his knees and placed his hands on Harry's arms, shuddering at how cold and clammy his skin was.

"Hold him tight," Severus instructed before grabbing Harry's head and sliding the tube into his right nostril.

Ron closed his eyes and turned his head, tightening his grip as Harry began to gag and arch uncontrollably. He couldn't bear to watch what was happening to his best friend.

Once the tube reached the boy's stomach Severus carefully secured it with very careful sticking charm and brandished his wand at the protruding plastic. "Impuritas deturbo!"

Severus watched grimly as a mixture of sewage green slime and dark blood came rushing out of the tube and onto the floor. The puddle fizzed and sizzled, belching orange smoke. The thought of that caustic brew burning in the boy's gut made his breath catch in his chest.

Though it felt like hours, it wasn't long before Poppy came rushing in. Hermione arrived just behind her, but remained hovering like a frightened ghost in the shadow of the doorway, a sheet of paper clutched in one hand.

"What did he take?" Poppy asked, lifting Harry eyelid. His eyes were bloodshot, the sclera jaundiced, the pupils blown so wide that only the thinnest sliver of green iris remained. She lifted the boy's lips only to see that his gums were bleeding.

Severus looked around at the dozens of empty potion bottles that littered the table and floor. "...everything."

"We have to move him to the hospital wing now," Poppy said urgently, conjuring a stretcher.

...

"No! No!" Hermione screamed, banging on the door to the private infirmary room that the adults had just disappeared into with Harry, shutting Ron and her out in the dark, silent hospital wing.

"Hermione… Hermione!" Ron yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her back into his arms. "It's alright...it's alright…" he tried to soothe.

"No, it's not!" she cried into his chest. "He tried to leave us...he tried to leave!"

"I know… I know…" he said softly. The feel of Harry's limp, twitching muscles and cold skin remained all too fresh in his mind.

He guided her over to one of the nearby cots, where they sat side by side, watching the closed door for some sign as to what was going on inside. The wait was agonizing. It wasn't until the sun came up that Severus and Poppy emerged from the room, looking disheveled and exhausted. They teens leapt to their feet, hope and dread mixing in their expressions. Neither teacher seemed surprised that they were still there.

"He's alright for now," Poppy said softly. "You two can go in, so long as you remain composed and quiet. He's not out of the woods yet, and he needs rest."

Hermione wasted no time dashing past her, but stopped short at what she saw. Harry lay in the bed, his skin blending in with the sheets. The tube was still in his nose but it was now hooked up to some kind of machine that she had never seen before, and a complex set of runes glowed in the air over his bed, pulsing and shifting in time with his vital functions. Bandages covered his neck but she could see that the pus-filled blisters around his mouth had been sliced open to drain and treated with a thick white salve.

But what upset Hermione the most were the restraints around Harry's wrists and ankles.

Wiping fresh tears away, she made her way over to the bedside and tried to brush some of his hair over the bald spots that now peppered his scalp, but his hair had thinned out quite a lot, so it didn't make much difference.

"...it will grow back," Ron spoke up from over her shoulder, noting her distress.

"I know..." Hermione muttered, feeling helpless. She ran her fingers through his tufts of hair again, noticing how cold he was even with several blankets stacked on top of him. She quickly swept off her robe and placed it over top of him, hoping to lend him some of her warmth. Satisfied, she sank into one of the chairs beside the bed.

Ron said nothing as he took the seat next to her.

"What's that?" he asked, noticing for the first time a worried sheet of paper clasped in her hand.

"It's...his note," she murmured, passing it to him.

Ron unfolded the paper and stared at it for a long time, wondering how two little words could have such a devastating impact.

"He's going to make it through this," he said aloud, but he wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Hermione, or himself.

Hermione gave a small nod, but her eyes were filled with an uncertainty that matched his own. She took his hand in hers and settled in to wait for Harry to wake up.


	28. A Mothers Love

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty Seven- A Mothers Love

Molly had spent the last thirty minutes arguing with Poppy about the restraints.

"He isn't a wild animal that needs to be chained up!"

"I'm not happy about it either, but it is required when..."

"Please, as if this school never breaks rules!" Molly interrupted. "What is he going to do? Even if he wakes, you said yourself he's too weak to leave the bed. Those shackles aren't just unnecessary, they're cruel!"

Poppy flinched visibly, but Molly stood firm, feeling as if it was one of her own sons in that bed.

"Fine," she relented. "But someone has to be with him, at all times!"

"I'm not planning on going anywhere."

Harry was still fast asleep when Molly returned to his room. Letting out a long sigh, she made her way to his side and set to work on the restraints. She couldn't breathe easy until the last one fell away. Settling on the edge of the bed, she pulled a tissue out of her sleeve and leaned over to dab at the blood still leaking from the boy's eyes.

"There now, isn't that better?" she murmured to the sleeping child. "Everything's going to be alright. Arthur is talking to Albus right now about you coming home with us for a while. We think it would be good for you to get away from the school… the papers..." Molly swallowed hard, working to keep her voice even and soothing. "I know how much you like it at the Burrow. And Bill is home for a few days, so you will have someone to talk to. Not to mention..."

Molly was cut short as Harry slowly opened his eyes. Her heart clenched to see his pupils were still blown wide, only a hint of green visible.

Harry winced against the brightness stinging his eyes. How… what… where… he couldn't quite seem to hold on to any of the questions as they formed, floating away as the lights in the room flashed and spun. His brain felt like it was made of bees, his thoughts buzzing and stinging, flying around inside his skull in a loose, uncatchable swarm. All he could see through the swimming fizz of light and color was a figure with long red hair hovering beside him.

"Mom?" he asked hopefully.

Molly felt her heart break at the simple request. "No honey… it's Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh…" Harry replied, staring through her with empty, unfocused eyes for a long moment before slowly, as though his muscles were moving in slow motion, his face crumpled with despair. "Oh, no… no… no..." he wailed, moving his head back and forth, raising his arms to swipe weakly at the air above him, batting at something that wasn't there. "I want my mom!" he sobbed, bloody tears carving sticky red trails down his cheeks. "I want my mom!"

Molly couldn't hold back her own tears as she climbed onto the bed beside Harry and held him, cradling him like a baby and running her fingers through what was left of his hair.

"I know sweetie, I know," she soothed as his crying worsened. "It's okay to want your mom, it's okay to miss her..."

"I...I wanted to be with her...I didn't...I didn't want to be here..." he wept, burying his head against Molly's chest.

"I know sweetie," she whispered, her arms tightening as though she could keep him safe if only she could hold on tightly enough. "It's all going to be alright… it's alright to cry and feel the way you do."

"I...I..."

"Shhhh, you don't need to explain, you don't need to say anything," she assured him, slowly beginning to rock him back and forth. "I'm right here and I'm not going to leave, I'm gonna be right here with you."

"...you smell like Christmas cookies... " Harry slurred as he sucked in a shaky breath.

"Is that so, dear?" she said with a watery laugh. Poppy had warned her that he might still be a bit delirious upon waking. She hadn't mentioned how heartbreaking it would be.

"Christmas cookies… it's a good smell… you always smell like Christmas cookies."

"Thank you Harry, that's nice of you to say," she replied as she cleaned the blood that continue leak out of Harry eyes. "Perhaps we shall bake some cookies when we take you home to the burrow."

"It doesn't taste like Christmas cookies," he mumbled, scrunching up his nose. "...I...I have pennies in my mouth..."

"Pennies?" Molly gave him a questioning look. What on earth were pennies?

"Pennies… er, knuts maybe? Are knuts made of copper? I can't remember..." Harry slurred.

Molly couldn't help the small chuckle as she turned to reach the water on the nightstand and the wastebin beside it.

"Small sips and then spit," she instructed, pressing the glass to Harry's lips.

Harry let out a small moan as water flooded his mouth, washing away the rancid flavor of old blood.

Meanwhile a showdown was taking place in the Headmaster's office.

"He doesn't need to be smothered with cookies and hugs!" Severus yelled.

"At least at our house he won't be left unsupervised to swallow everything in the potions cabinet!" Arthur yelled back.

Severus flinched. "I didn't..." But he couldn't get a word in.

"Didn't what?" Arthur railed, jabbing an accusing finger in his face. "Didn't think he would do it? Didn't care?"

"How dare you -!"

"Look where that got us! Now my son is laying in a hospital bed… er, Harry..." He frowned at his slip, slightly abashed, but quickly rallied. "If Ron and Hermione hadn't woken you then we'd be burying him today!"

"The boy needs to be kept busy," Severus said gruffly in an effort to regain control of the conversation.

"We have plenty to keep him occupied around the house," Arthur retorted. He seemed about to launch into another diatribe when Albus suddenly raised his hand, signalling for quiet.

"What do you two have to say?" Dumbledore asked, turning to Hermione and Ron, who sat wide-eyed and silent on the couch staring back and forth between the arguing adults. At the question, they glanced at each other, sharing a melancholy look of agreement. Neither was happy about it, but they both knew it was the right choice.

"We almost watched Harry die last night," Ron replied. "Perhaps it is a good idea if he went home with my parents, got away from the school… spent some time where he won't be able to see what people are saying… or be reminded of..."

"Harry needs to be where he is loved and cared for," Hermione chimed in. "And that's with the Weasleys. Being here is only causing more damage."

Dumbledores nodded thoughtfully, stroking his beard as he considered. "Wards would need to be placed around the Burrow, Arthur, and you would need to follow Poppy's instructions to the letter. All sharp objects should be removed, Harry can't be left alone..."

"We will do whatever she says," Arthur said eagerly.

Dumbledore nodded, but his eyes were on Severus, watching him carefully for a long moment. When the Potions professor made no further objection, only crossed his arms and looked away, the headmaster slowly nodded again.

"Why don't you two go and pack Harry's things?" he said, addressing the two teens again. "And Arthur, why don't you go and join your wife in the infirmary?"

He showed the three out, closing the door firmly behind them, and turned back to the stolid wizard still standing in the center of his office.


	29. Going Home

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty Eight - Going Home

Hermione and Ron packed Harry things in silence. Images of Harry lying on the floor kept flashing through Hermione's mind. She couldn't bear the thought of what might have happened if she had been a minute too late.

"Do you think we should bring Hedwig down with us?" Ron asked, running his fingers through her feathers, only to jerk back as Hedwig nipped at him. "She really misses Harry, and I know mom wouldn't mind...Hermione?" he questioned when she made no reply. "Hermione!"

"What?" she asked, startled out of her trance.

"Hedwig...Harry? I know you are upset but..."

"I'm not upset," she muttered, turning to fold one of Harry sweatshirts into the bag.

"You're not?"

"...no I'm not...I'm angry. Angry at Harry, at Snape, at everyone. But Harry, he… How dare he! He was going to leave us, and all he could say was 'sorry'? What the bloody hell does that even mean?"

"Hermione, I know..."

"Don't say that you know! You don't! This year wasn't supposed to be this way..." she snapped, yanking out another one of Harry sweatshirts and folding it up.

"What was it supposed to be like?"

"...go to classes...have fun like normal children...fight You-Know-Who..." she shrugged, digging deeper into the clothes drawer. "Jeans?"

"...jeans are fine… fighting You-Know-Who is hardly normal."

"Well it's normal for us!" Hermione yelled. "Harry could have died last night and then what? I wouldn't know what to do..."

"...I wouldn't know what to do either," Ron admitted quietly. "I can still see him lying there… but things will get better! He's going home with mom and that will do him a world of good."

"Hopefully..." Hermione muttered as she continued to pack.

...

Molly was just helping Hary spit bloody water into the waste bin when Arthur walked in.

"That's a good boy," Molly said, wiping the boy's mouth.

"...good boy..." Harry repeated, leaning back into Molly's embrace with a violent shiver.

"Good news! Albus said he can come home with us," Arthur announced, taking off his sweater and handing it to Molly. "Ron and Hermione are packing his things right now!"

"You hear that Harry? You can come home with us," Molly said with a smile, fighting through her tears as she helped Harry thread his arm into Arthur's sweater, careful of the tube still protruding from his nose. "You can rest and get yourself all healed up!"

Harry let out a low moan, struggling with the fog in his brain. Go home to the Burrow? That was a good thing, right? He loved it at the Burrow. So why did he feel so uneasy? So sick and scared? He didn't want to go with them. He wanted to stay here… with Snape. He felt safe with Snape.

He opened his mouth to say so, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get his brain to make his lips form the words.

"There we go!" Molly said, tugging the sweater straight over his other arm just as Poppy walked into the room.

"How long has he been awake?" she demanded harshly, bustling over to examine her patient. Harry moaned loudly as the bright wandlight assaulted his eyes, turning his head into Molly's arm in a feeble attempt to escape it. "You should have called me the moment he woke up!"

"He only woke up a few minutes ago," Molly retorted. "I was looking after him just fine!"

Poppy let out a long suffering sigh and decided to change the subject. "Can you lay him down so I can check his stomach?"

Molly pursed her lips, but nodded, shifting her body so she could lay Harry on his back.

"No...nonononono..." he moaned as he felt the warm embrace withdraw.

"It's just for a moment Harry," she promised, taking his hand. "I'm right here with you."

"I'm just going to check your stomach, Harry," Poppy explained as she carefully raised his shirt and gently palpated his abdomen for abnormalities.

Harry winced as the slightest touch caused a sharp pain in his stomach.

"It's alright Harry, it will be over soon," Molly soothed.

"...no...no... dats hurts..." Harry slurred, pushing Poppy's hands away. "...I...I want to go to Potions...I'm late for class..."

He wanted to see Snape, but he didn't know how to say it.

"I think we can take the tube out now," Poppy said, ignoring his mumblings and gently brushing his hands aside. "Can you sit him up for me?"

Molly pulled down Harry's shirt and zipped up Arthur's sweater before pulling Harry back into her arms.

"Class!" Harry wailed.

"It's alright Harry, you don't have any classes."

"I'm going to need you to brace his arms so he can't grab at me while I work. Put your other hand on his forehead and push his head back, just so," Poppy explained as she helped Molly to find the right position. Harry's eyes followed her as she canceled the sticking charm on the tube in his nose. "I need you to hold him firmly because he won't like this.''

Harry gave a cry as Poppy began to pull. He squirmed and kicked against the burn of the tube scraping its way up the inflamed flesh of his esophagus, only to feel hands tighten terrifyingly on his arms and legs. Bloody tears blurred his vision and tracked down his cheeks.

"St-top!" he choked, gagging on the sickening slither of the tube against the back of his throat. "St-t-tooooo-guh-ack!" Poppy ignored his pleas, and with a final heaving cough, the tube slid free of his nose.

"It's all over Harry, you did such a good job," Molly reassured him, pushing Poppy unceremoniously out of the way as she cleaned the snot and blood that dripped out of his nose and down his face.

"In my nose," Harry whimpered as he rubbed at his raw nostril, his brain unable to understand what just happened. He slumped back in relief, tears still seeping from his eyes. He felt betrayed, wanted to feel angry, but the ordeal had exhausted him, and mostly he just wanted to be back in that warm embrace.

"I'll make a list of things Harry can eat while his stomach is still healing," Poppy said as she turned towards the door. At Molly's withering glare, she rolled her eyes and added, "He did a lot of damage to it and it will take time for him to fully recover." With one final concerned glance in Harry's direction, she sniffed primly and bustled out of the room.

"It's alright Harry… no more," Molly cooed reassuringly as she rubbed Harry's back.

"I...I didn't like that," Harry slurred, watching warily as the other figure in the room sat down beside the bed.

"I know, it must not have felt that great, '' Molly agreed as she lifted his head and pressed a glass of water to his lips. Swallowing hurt, but the cool moisture felt wonderful and he drank greedily every sip she permitted him. "There we go! And I'm sure Ron and Hermione will be down any minute and when they do then we get to go home. Doesn't that sound nice?"

…

"You ready?" Hermione asked softly as she slung Harry's bag over her shoulder.

"I can't get her to jump up," Ron complained, pulling his hand back before he could receive his fifth bite from Hedwig. "She only listens to Harry."

"She's just upset," Hermione replied calmly, handing the bag off to him with an air of authority and holding her arm out. "Here girl, you want to see Harry?" Hedwig perked up. "Come on, we'll take you to see him."

Ron scowled as the owl stepped up onto Hermione's arm, ruffling her feathers a little.

"That's a good girl, I know you want to see Harry," she said, gently petting the unhappy bird. "So do we. Levitate the bags, will you, Ron?"

As they made their way down to the common room, they did their best to ignore the stares that followed them. They may not know what exactly was going on, but they could see that they were carrying packed bags and Harry's owl. It didn't take much to realize what was happening.

Unequal and unwilling to answer any questions, the two avoided all eye contact as they left the dormitory, and continued to do so as they made their way to the Hospital Wing.

When they entered Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed in a pair of oversized sweat pants and Arthur's sweater.

Hedwig let out a loud chirp and flew directly over to Harry, landing on his knee with a contented flutter.

Harry stared, blinking, then slowly raised his hand and ran it through the owl's feathers. "Hey girl..." he slurred. "It's my owl," he announced to everyone in the room.

"You're leaving now?" Ron asked his parents.

"We think that's best," Molly nodded as Arthur shuffled the papers full of precautions and instructions Poppy had given them.

"Come on sweetie," Molly said as she helped Harry to his feet. Hedwig, in a much better mood now that she was reunited with her wizard, took the hint and flew over to wait patiently by her cage.

Hermione swept a tear from her eye before making her way over to Harry and wrapping her arms around him. "We'll see you on Saturday, alright?"

Harry slowly raised his arm up and lightly pressed it to her back.

"Saturday..."

"Saturday," she repeated firmly as she pulled away, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand to wipe away the blood that had leaked from Harry's eyes. "Everything is going to be alright," she added, unsure if she was telling Harry or herself.

Ron was next up, dropping the bags on the bed before giving Harry a hug himself. "Don't do anything too crazy before we get there, alright?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"You... teach Quidditch?" Harry garbled, grabbing Ron's arm as he moved to pull away.

"Quidditch?" Hermione and Ron exchanged a confused glance.

"...they need to learn...they need...safe..." Harry grimaced, fighting with his brain for every word.

"Oh, right!" Hermione said quickly, catching Ron's arm before he could push for more information. Harry meant Dumbledore's army. Her heart swelled and her throat tightened painfully. Even in this state, he was still thinking of everyone else. Could that be what his note had meant. Maybe… maybe he hadn't wanted to leave them after all. "Don't worry, Harry," she affirmed, "we will teach Quidditch."

"We should get going," Molly said as she led Harry out to the hearth, leaving Arthur to follow behind with the levitated luggage. "See you on Saturday, dears!"

Harry cast one last look back at his friends before Molly dropped the floo powder on the flames, something about potions class nagging at the back of his mind. Then all he could see was green flames and the sitting room at the Burrow rushing towards him.


	30. The Visit with Ron and Hermione

Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty Nine - The Visit with Ron and Hermione

Four days passed in a hellish sort of limbo as Ron and Hermione waited for Saturday to come. Life returned to normal around them, but by some unspoken agreement the two of them seemed to be exempt. The professors permitted them to sit silently at the back of the class without calling on them; Professor Snape would not even glance in their direction. Their classmates gave them uncertain smiles and occasional words of encouragement, but otherwise let them be. No one in the DA bothered Hermione with questions as she continued to teach from Harry's notes. Even the Slytherins gave them a wide berth. Only Luna seemed unaffected, approaching Hermione after Charms on Friday with her customary serene smile and vacant eyes to proffer a large purple crystal bound with a cord to make a pendant.

"For Harry," she explained with the same chipper lilt her voice always held. "The nargles want him to have it."

Hermione fought not to roll her eyes, in no mood for Luna's eccentricity, and took the crystal with a skeptical expression.

"Er… what does it do?"

"That's a good question," she replied dreamily. "Personally, I don't really think it does anything. I think maybe it's more about what Harry can do with it."

Hermione frowned. "...alright, Luna," she muttered, stuffing it in her pocket. "I will make sure to give it to him."

She scowled at the Ravenclaw's back in annoyance as the girl skipped away and decided she was grateful that for once the rest of the school had the decency to mind their own business.

Determined not to tempt fate, she woke Ron long before anyone else was up Saturday morning to herd him, yawning and grumbling, to the Headmaster's office where they'd floo to the Burrow.

...

Hedwig didn't know what was upsetting her human. She had done everything she could think of to cheer him up. Every morning she went out and found a plump, juicy mouse to bring back for him. She would spend hours preening the wooly mop of fur atop his head while he sat asleep in his bed or chair. She noticed that it calmed him to stroke her feathers when he became anxious, so she never left his side when he was awake. Nothing made much difference. The worst was when the woman that belonged to the Hospital Wing would come by in the mornings. That was when Harry needed her most.

...

Harry hadn't had a pleasant four days. For the first two he hadn't been able to comprehend most of what was happening, and everything was just a series of swimmy, disjointed jumble of sights and sounds and thoughts, each more disturbing than the last, but whenever the fog cleared from his mind, and he remembered that he was at the Burrow, he would inevitably cry himself to sleep.

He felt like a fool. Because he'd felt safe in Snape's chambers, had stupidly believed that the professor cared, that he understood, that they had become… not friends, but…

... it didn't matter. Snape had pawned him off to be another's problem.

On the third day Harry was furious to discover that all the sharp and dangerous objects had been removed from the house, and he screamed himself raw once he realized he wasn't allowed to go anywhere, not even to the bathroom, without Bill or Arthur accompanying him. The men stood silently by until he wore himself out, and Molly only smiled sympathetically and made him tea with a few drops of honey to soothe his throat. No one seemed at all shocked by his behavior, which only pissed him off more.

After a second blow up, Madam Pomfrey simply added a low dose of Calming Draught to the long list of potions that he needed to take.

Harry raged, but underneath that he despaired. It felt like no one was taking him seriously at all.

...

Saturday morning Harry woke up late, letting out a low moan when he stretched his sore muscles. Bill met him at his bedroom door.

"Morning, warden," he sneered half-heartedly. He scowled at the floor when Bill only smirked sadly and ushered him to the bathroom. After a token effort to wash up, he climbed reluctantly into an old worn pair of jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, pulling the hood up to hide his bald spot. He felt like he was moving in slow motion. His body had mostly healed over the past few days; he had regained his color, the ringing in his ears had stopped and he was no longer crying blood, but a deep, persistent ache still dogged his every move. Madam Pomfrey had said that full recovery was simply a long and unpleasant process, but Harry was tempted to believe she was watering the pain potions to punish him.

Bill, annoyingly patient, allowed him to take his time, following as he took the stairs one at a time, went downstairs, taking one step at a time as he still felt like his balance was off. He froze, swaying on the last step, to see Ron and Hermione sitting side by side on the couch.

Blinking, he looked away, refusing to make eye contact as he trudged into the living room and lowered himself into a chair across from them. Hedwig perched protectively on the chairback, glaring at the newcomers with open suspicion. Harry wanted to be happy to see them, but all he felt was a nauseating swoop of dread and humiliation in his stomach as his heart constricted and his shoulders tensed. He didn't feel comforted, he felt cornered. His only relief that Bill had the decency to leave the room.

"Call if you need anything," he said lightly, but he shot Ron a pointed look before ambling out the door.

"What are you doing here?" Harry muttered after a long moment of unconformable silence.

"We told you we were coming to see you on Saturday," Hermione said. "Remember?"

"Oh… I don't… I don't remember a lot of stuff..." he muttered, still not looking at either of them. The last thing he remembered clearly was swallowing a potion that tasted of tinned asparagus and old feet, before waking up in Ron's room to discover that days had passed.

"That's alright," she said, giving him a small smile. "How are you feeling? You look much better..."

Harry was saved from having to answer the question when Molly bustled into the room with a fully laden tray.

"Here we are! Some piping hot tea and biscuits fresh from the oven! And your morning potions, Harry," she added with an overly cheerful smile. "Be sure to swallow them all before you tuck in to your treats! You have a nice visit, dears, and call if you need anything at all!" She shot Ron the same pointed look the Bill had before once more leaving the three alone.

Harry grimaced as his friends' eyes went to the colorful array of bottles laid out on a tray.

"What are those for?" Ron asked, earning himself an elbow to his ribs from Hermione.

"Ummm… calming, healing, pain, inflammation, to stop the bleeding while I am healing…" He ticked them off on his fingers one by one, then stopped and shrugged defensively. "I don't know what the others do, but they taste disgusting." Hedwig nipped at the hood of his sweatshirt.

"So... how are things here at the Burrow?" Hermione asked, trying to move the conversation along.

Harry ignored the question. Slowly he turned his head to look squarely at his friends for the first time. "Where's Snape?"

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. "Professor Snape is at Hogwarts. We don't see him much except for classes," Hermione explained. "Do you… want to see him?"

"...I want out of here," Harry muttered.

Hedwig, sensing her human's distress, jumped down to the armrest and nipped at his hand until he began to pat her.

"Harry… it really is for the best right now that..."

"No…" he interrupted. "I'm not allowed to go anywhere alone. The potions make me sleepy. I can't think straight half the time..." He managed to leave out the part about not feeling safe.

"No offense, but what did you expect, mate?" Ron asked gently. Hermione glared at him, but Harry only shook his head.

"I'm being smothered here…" he told them plainly. "I want to go back to Hogwarts."

Ron and Hermione shared a guilty look, grateful that Harry didn't seem to know they were the ones that had gotten him sent to the Burrow in the first place. It had seemed like the obvious solution, but the misery now in Harry's expression clearly said otherwise. Hermione wished there was a book that could tell her the right thing to do. Despite the best of intentions, it felt like everyone was doing Harry wrong.

"We'll talk to Dumbledore for you but..."

"No, Snape," Harry insisted

"...alright, Snape," she reluctantly agreed.

The rest of the visit didn't go any more to plan than anything else had. Once Harry took his potions, he wasn't able to hold a conversion for long without his mind wandering off. They took turns telling him anecdotes and gossip from school, but it soon became clear that there wasn't much more they could do to draw him out today.

Dejected as she stared at his unfocused expression, Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat, then frowned to feel something jabbing her hip. Digging into her pocket, she removed the offending item.

"Oh… Luna wanted you to have this," she said, holding the purple crystal out to Harry. "She...she said that…" She scrunched up her nose, feeling ridiculous. "She said that the nargles wanted you to have it."

Harry took the pendant from her, staring at it thoughtfully.

"Luna?" For just a moment, his eyes cleared and focused. "And… how is the DA?" he asked, curling his fingers around the crystal and setting it in his lap.

"The DA is doing great. Everyone is doing great. We've been..." Hermione started to explain, only to stop short as Harry's eyes fell closed. He slumped against the arm of the chair and promptly fell asleep.

"Well that went well," Ron murmured sarcastically as he stood up to go find his dad - the only one who hadn't been shooting him pointed looks all morning.

"You know, I think maybe it did," Hermione said softly, staring at the crystal still clutched loosely in Harry's fist. "He asked about the DA," she elaborated at Ron's skeptical expression. "It's the first interest he's taken in anything other than his own situation since he's been back in his right mind. And even when he wasn't, he still had enough wherewithal to remind us to keep it up."

Ron scratched his head, mulling it over. "What do you think it means?"

"I think perhaps… perhaps it's time we stopped trying to think of solutions on our own, and start listening to Harry."

"He can't exactly say much right now," Ron shrugged. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"He's already said plenty. We just haven't been listening hard enough," she replied. "Hurry up and find your dad and then let's get going."

"It's Saturday, there's nothing going on. And mom'll be making lunch soon. What's the rush?"

"We have to get back to Hogwarts," she told him decisively. "We have to go find Professor Snape."


End file.
